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librarylexicon · 5 months ago

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20 Questions for Writers

EDIT: Now with question 17!

Tagged by @cuephrase (ty bb!!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

32 (that are attached to my account).

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

283,405. I very nearly posted 100,000 of them last year, and only noticed when I looked at my stats in January. If I'd known, I would have posted something else to get it over that line!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now, just Batman, but in the past I've written for Harry Potter, Anne of Green Gables, Little Men, Tintin and a handful of other fandoms. I have a Road to Avonlea fic tentatively in the works, and might return to any of these fandoms if inspiration strikes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All the Corners That Are Left is an outlier in my stats because it has more than three times as many kudos as the runner-up. It's an exchange fic that was my first foray into posting Batfam fics, and I liked writing it so much that it actually sparked a loose series of Post-Crisis oneshots, currently called Corners.

Family Crisis is my beloved canon divergence AU of War Games. It's the first fic I started writing for Batman, and I'm so happy that people are reading it. It's very comics-oriented, but still easy to follow without having touched a comic (imo).

Harry Potter and the Time-Turner is the first multichapter fic I ever wrote and completed, back when I was in my early teens. I won't reread it, lest I die of cringe, but I'm bemusedly grateful that it still gets hits and kudos.

Home Assignment is a Dick whump fic I drafted quite a while ago, and finally had an opportunity to finish and publish when I signed up for a Dick Grayson event. I had fun playing around with unreliable narration in this one!

In Retrospect is a HP fic that was written for a challenge where I was given five prompts and a week to produce five one-shots. I chose to make mine interconnected missing scenes set during and after Deathly Hallows, and particularly like how Painfully Abnormal turned out.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! It's a habit that's carried over from my fanfiction.net days, and I receive a manageable amount of comments, so I try to respond to every one. (The only reason I might not is when someone leaves a string of comments that are all very brief. In that instance, I tend to reply to the final comment only.) I adore reading and replying to comments! 🫶

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I've always been an angst lover. The Last Enemy, one of my oldest fics, ends with (canonical) apparent character death, and For the Sake of Our Son ends with both main characters (canonically) dying. How fun!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Other than a shipfic that's now anonymous, I don't know! I tend to go for uplifting or satisfying endings without necessarily aiming for happy ones (although I rarely have unhappy endings). Maybe You Know I Love You? I do also have a handful of Batman ficlets that I recently wrote for a zine, and there's definitely fluff among them.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think I got some on fanfiction.net back in the day, but the most hate I've received that I can remember is people being salty about a couple of fics I began when I was a teenager and never finished. I'm sorry, but it's been almost a decade! Yes, you can and should resist the urge to tell me that you don't respect authors who abandon fics!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

While I've toyed with quite a few crossover ideas over the years, I've only published one, which is a Rise of the Guardians and Peter Pan one-shot called Lost Boy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I can't recall any specific instances, but many of my fics have been on the internet for a long time, so they've definitely been scraped for knockoff sites, if nothing else.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, three times! Harry Potter and the Time-Turner has been translated into French, Shirley Not has been translated into German and At Home, They Call Me Tintin has been translated into Chinese. (Links to these translations are in my fanfic masterlist on Dreamwidth.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I'm open to the idea! I'd have to really know the other author and get over my control freak tendencies, though...

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I don't ship much (to the point where I have plenty of NOTPs), but I do love TimSteph, and I have soft spots for DickBabs and BatCat (Bruce/Selina) as well. All-time favourite, though? That would have to be Anne and Gilbert from the Anne of Green Gables series.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Before the War(drobe). Narnia fandom, I really want to return to you someday, but I have a couple things to do first!

16. What are your writing strengths?

My most positive comments almost always mention characterisation. I also think I write dialogue pretty well. In my mind, well-written dialogue is essential to good characterisation.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Even though I write about characters who are superheroes, I rarely write about them BEING superheroes, because I struggle with action scenes. Also description, but I like to think I've grown better at it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't like to use non-Latin characters in my fics for readability reasons, and I don't like to include dialogue in another language if I don't know the language. So, when my characters speak a language other than English, I either just use an English translation with a dialogue attribution (e.g. She said in Spanish) or just use the attribution without the dialogue, depending on whether or not the POV character understands the language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter! I wrote for it before I knew what fanfic was. I also joined the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum on fanfiction.net back in the day, which led to my most prolific ficwriting period.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

My favourite fics tend to be my most recent ones, because they're the ones I've spent the most time on and am most proud of. I can never pick one of anything (as you've probably noticed), so my current favourites are:

Family Crisis – longtime labour of love and Bruce character study

All the Corners That Are Left – Dick character study feat. Jason

Flight Mode – Tim character study feat. Bruce

Phew, that was a lot of questions! I think a lot of people have already been tagged 😅

Scrolling through my mutuals and no-pressure tagging @silverwhittlingknife @geevesthevieve @batrachised @freyafrida and @silent-silver-slip and any other fic writers who see this! 🫶

#mine #tag game #bants and fanfic #fanfiction

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buried-in-autumn-leaves · 4 months ago

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Yet another OC introduction post !!! The olba ones will have their dolls for all 4 steps bc I haven't decided on future looks for Freya and Trixie-

ANYWAYZ-

Aurora King !! She is part of my main Baxter line- There's a LOT of posts ab her on my blog with more info, but here's like a basic (?) rundown.

Step one Aurora is (like every version of her), very emotionally driven. She has always drawn her inspiration from fairytails, prefering to stay inside whenever the others go to the beach due to her hatred of sand. She has the nervous preset, and though others call her shy, she's really just cautious and soft-spoken. She gets attached to Cove because he's also quiet, and she thinks he's a lot nicer than he first appears, like some of the people in her stories.

She's willing to put up with the beach for him, enjoying his ideas about mermaids and other mythical possibilities below the waves. She also really likes Shiloh, though she's upset that he always seems to like Lizzie more, when Lizzie isn't even nice all the time like she is. (No offense of course, she adores her sister.)

She has sensory issues, making some things harder than necessary, like the fireworks moment. She thinks rules are important, and though Cove has a bit of a bad influence on her, she mostly sticks to that, keeping close to her moms and sister.

Above all else, she is determined that she can be just as happy as the princesses in her books- She just has to believe.

Step Two pushes her idealism to a hard point. Life was so great, she doesn't understand what went wrong. It's like suddenly her moms are too busy for her, her sister HATES her, and Cove isn't exactly the easiest to talk to. Not that she would want to bother her best friend with something silly like that, though.

She pretends, mostly. Smiles at her mothers and waves happily as her sister ignores her attempts at hanging out for the nth day in a row. She knows now that this anxiety- This knawing feeling in her gut clawing at the back of her throat won't go away. Her meds help, but she's having trouble coping with it. The first time Cove sneaks into her bedroom window, she almost pushes him back OUT in her panic.

She likes Derek a lot- He seems a lot like her, optimistic and loving and just kind in a way she admires. She's not oblivious, she notices the way he treats her compared to Cove. For a bit, she thinks this might be the fairytale she's been wishing for, but they're both so unsure about themselves, and the moment passes.

She enjoys going outside more due to Cove constantly dragging her to the beach, but she swears if he wakes her up before at LEAST 10 one more time, he's getting locked out. She copes with the sand by stubbornly wearing thick stockings under her dresses, insisting she isn't suffering in the california heat.

And then there's another boy- One filled with the same hatred of the world and scorn towards others that Cove had, and he makes Aurora smile. She's done this once before, she wants to help him too. He refuses, but she stays consistent, offering him reassurance until he's walking out of her life.

Life is hard when you're 13- she thinks -but the storybooks always have happy endings.

Alright, she's about done with the waiting now. Highschool flew by easily, and she displays her acomplishments with pride. She's also finished the rough draft of her first official book- The Obsidian Crown.

She's going to college, something that both excites and scares her. It might not be far to most people (a six hour drive north, still in California), but the thought of being that far from the only place she's known makes her feel nauseous.

But she did it- She made it to the age where anything is supposed to be possible. This summer is about celebration and looking forward instead of back.

Of course, life is never that simple.

Whatever forces exist beyond her have apparently decided to take the phrase 'Small World' to the extreme. She has her sister back, which makes her happier than her 13 year old self would've expected. She has Shiloh, who makes her feel bittersweet, but in coming back into her life brought Jeremy back with him.

Aurora latches onto Jeremy immediately, declaring their reunion an act of fate. ("We have the same last name, we're basically siblings!") She calls him almost weekly, insisting that being forced to talk about his day is good for him. His reaction the first time she introduced him to Terry and Miranda over video call as her brother is the most emotion she's ever seen from him, even if it was negative.

Then, to her astonishment, there's Baxter. Her panic fires up when the mystery prince from the dance recognizes her, but she somehow manages to not lose her breakfast on the sidewalk. Cove teases her relentlessly, disappoving in the nicest way he can when the two start dating. At one point, Aurora gifts him the handwritten copy of her book. He requests she sign it, which she does, although embarrassed.

Aurora is happy. She has her big sister, she has her little brother, even if he likes to pretend they don't know each other. Her friends, her parents, her prince. Her story is almost at its happily ever after.

Until it isn't.

She had tried to ignore Baxter's promise of only being with her for the summer. It didn't fit into her fairytale idealism. So it manages to catch her off guard when he dumps her. She leaves him at his door, turning and going not home but to Cove. Cove comforts her in whatever ways he knows how, and looking back, she would say he did a damn good job. But she was vulnerable, and Cove has always had a habit of resorting to humour, so she should've seen it coming when he points out that he said it was a bad idea to get involved with the victorian emo nightmare.

It's the only time she ever actually hit someone.

In the end it's Miranda who gets her out of her room, convincing her to eat and wash her hair after days of surviving off the snacks stashed in her desk.

She turns back to her stories, using her experiences as inspiration for her next two books: "A Still Ocean" and "Shattered Silence: A Poetry Collection".

She goes to her brothers graduation, giggling at the way his face goes red and he makes a quick exit, making sure to stay as far away from her as possible. She meets his best friend- Pran is a nice girl, she thinks, she just needs time.

She gives up dancing- It reminded her of him too much.

She goes to college, where she meets a girl who also had the displeasure of knowing Baxter, and the two laugh, comparing old pictures of him and confirming his fashion sense has never been any less funny.

She smiles, and for now, she decides, that's enough.

The summer of 2021 is... eventful to say the least.

June brings her back to the city, where Derek is, smiles and all. It brings his brothers, who look as adorable as ever. It brings his parents, who fawn over her as if she's one of their own.

July... brings Baxter. It brings heartbreak and anger and messages never sent. It brings the discovery that not only does Baxter STILL HAVE the handwritten draft she gave him, but every other book she's published- Lined up on a shelf in Baxter's apartment that he rushes to explain away. It brings tears. It brings dances years too late. It brings forgivess. It brings NEW promises- Ones to stay in touch, to talk, to tell the truth. To love. It brings another disapproving look from Cove that she sees melt away as he watches them dance.

August brings resolution. It brings her family together. It brings jumping onto Cove out of a taxi, making fun of the fact that he never seems to stop getting taller. It brings Lizzie, who pretends to not know how Shiloh is doing even though Aurora definitely saw a text from him on her sisters' phone. It brings a cool wind, a promise of colder weather to come.

It brings an end, and a beginning.

#Can you tell she MIGHT be my favourite #I didn't even talk about their kids here #Anyways if anyone has questions about her or any of my other ocs PLEASE AWK #ASK #I love getting asks its so great #our life #gb patch games #olba #our life beginnings & always #baxter ward #Aurora King-Ward #Jeremy King #Freya Wren

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auroraknux · 7 months ago

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If it is okay to ask a second time: 🤲, 🎉 and 🧠 for the fanfic game? (if not pls just ignore this ask ;) )

Oh that's totally fine! (Barely anyone is sending anything anyway.)

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

If it gets a decent amount of attention, I guess. Lots of views, comments, and/or bookmarks. (Warmth and Safety once got recommended twice in the same Twitter thread, so I'd definitely consider that a success lol.)

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

You didn't give me a character, so I'll just pick the Bros lol. I love the really common idea that Mario protected Luigi from bullies growing up. (The movie even seems to support this!)

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Sure! I considered posting something from the eel scene rewrite (which I can still do if someone asks!). But instead, here's a snippet from the post-movie fic where Luigi and Peach bond over cake and trauma.

Please remember that this is part of an unfinished draft, and will get revisions when/if it's finished.

(For a bit of context: Peach has baked before, but it's been a long time since then, and she's very rusty.)

The timer dinged, shaking her out of her thoughts. She nearly forgot to use potholders when taking the cake out of the oven. Fortunately, she remembered before she could burn herself.

After the cake had a chance to cool, she tried a bite of it. It was crumbly, and fell apart at her touch. She frowned. What had she done wrong?

"Hey."

She whipped around, karate hands at the ready.

Luigi put his hands up. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to startle you."

Peach relaxed. "It's fine." She smiled. "What brings you here? Where's Mario?"

"Mario's at his therapy appointment, so I'm by myself today." Luigi scratched his hand. "I'm…bored, I guess."

Peach figured it was more than that. She had noticed how the two were almost never apart. Apparently it had been this way since they were young, but they had become especially clingy after their adventure. Luigi was probably feeling anxious by himself. She could use the company anyway.

"I tried baking a cake today. It came out a bit…bad."

Luigi inspected it. "Hmmm…yeah, it looks a bit dry."

"A bit" was quite the understatement.

He stroked his mustache. "You might've used too much flour, or too little butter and eggs."

"Oh, was that the problem?" Peach smiled, an idea coming to her. "I have enough ingredients left to try again. Maybe you could help me this time?"

Luigi's face lit up. "Sure!"

Peach did genuinely want his advice, but that wasn't the main reason for doing this. She knew Luigi needed a distraction right now, and this seemed like the best way to do it.

The two set to work on the cake (after scraping the remains of the other one into the garbage). Luigi showed her how to properly measure the ingredients, and gave her other advice every now and then. Before long, they had another cake in the oven.

"Thanks for the help," said Peach. "Where'd you learn all of this?"

"My Ma. I've helped her out in the kitchen lots of times. I've always paid close attention to what she does. I want to be able to cook for me and Mario when we someday get our own place."

Peach smiled. She thought it was sweet how the brothers intended to stay together, even as adults. While she'd been raised alongside other children, she'd never had any siblings of her own. She wondered what it was like to have a bond like Mario and Luigi's. To have someone that had been by your side since birth, who understood you like nobody else. She was almost jealous of what they had.

"Thanks for letting me hang out," said Luigi.

“Of course. You're welcome here any time.”

The timer dinged.

Luigi grabbed the pot holders. "I'll get it!"

He opened the oven. His cheery face suddenly changed to one of terror. He screamed and scrambled backwards, bumping into the counter.

#long post #mario movie #(i admit that i did edit a few things before posting...i'm a bit self-conscious lol)

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the--highlanders · 2 years ago

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I'm gonna go ahead and assume that your wip tag game post (from *checks notes* November 27th? god help me) isn't necessarily current any more, but take this ask as an invitation to talk about/post a little snip of anything that still is a wip if you happen to feel like it!

gfkjlds I wasn't expecting things to have changed that much bc I have a terrible habit of going 'omg I want to write that' [dumping a few notes in a draft] 'wait I want to write something else'. I'm not a wip abandoner in the sense of never finishing anything, bc I'm still putting out the same amount of fic, & once I've actually started writing I tend not to abandon stuff, but I do leave a trail of ignored ideas in my wake ajhfklsdg.

but!! I have actually posted three things from that list since I posted it (tell me you love me, come back and haunt me (which became litany for a reunion), the one about jamie patching ben up, and the one which was a first sentence of zoe being woken up) & am working on a fourth for next fortnight (the post-phantom piper one). so!! call that progress ig

you know what I'm going to talk about the one I had down as [two in 6b on a mission in 1745 where he bumps into jamie;. apparently I am so so so addicted to rotating post-war games fics. they're spilling out of my pockets. & honestly we might have talked about this one??

the idea was two being sent on some sort of mission in 6b that takes him to the highlands, and quite coincidentally bumping into jamie. and jamie recognises him, and figures out that something must be up, but he's not had enough of his memories bleed through to trust two, so he starts following him around more out of suspicion than anything. two's trying to complete his mission and get out of there as soon as possible because he REALLY doesn't want the pain and guilt of hanging around with jamie when he doesn't remember him at all. but obviously they end up having to work together, neither of them can really help it :'))

the way I've planned it out doesn't. exactly have a happy ending, to say the least. and I don't really want to spoil it here bc if I ever do write it, I think it'd be a gut punch. so just know that it may or may not be coming :^)

ALSO speaking of post-war games fics I do want to share this little plotting snippet from a different document (the one for the sequel to old ghost's waltz), bc I am so insane about it but haven't actually plucked up the courage to start writing this fic yet. so hey, here's a glimpse of the way I plan my fics ig!!

[mairead] sits down and says she might feel better if she knew more about what had happened; she asks kirsty to tell her about the doctor, and then asks if jamie is in love with him, with the air of already knowing the answer is yes; kirsty is hesitant to throw jamie under the bus by saying yes outright, so she asks 'how did ye know?'; mairead says that soon after jamie came back from the war, she had given him her wedding ring, saying he would have more use for it than her, and that jamie had seemed very emotional about it and had said he would give it to the person he loved; she looks kirsty dead in the eye and says 'and I've never seen you wear it'; kirsty just nods, and then says mairead seems very calm about it; mairead scoffs and says it wasn't entirely unexpected; she pauses, then lets out a shaky laugh and says 'the fact that he's a faery man was a surprise, though'

like god I NEED to write mairead and kirsty having a very emotionally charged and stilted conversation about jamie having left them behind. I've been chewing over this one for ages now

actually this made me realise that I only have one more section left to plot out for this fic and then I'll be out of excuses for not writing it aghfsdld.

#replies #galacticlamps #wips

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priestessofspiders · 2 years ago

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The Midnight Door

The apartment was cheap, but not suspiciously so, especially given the relatively decrepit state of it. It was a 1 bedroom affair, the building itself constructed at some point before the Great Depression, and it certainly showed its age. The bathroom was prone to mold, the windows let in a draft even when closed, and the fact that it was up 6 flights of stairs in a building where the elevator seemed perpetually out of order certainly didn't help. However, beyond these usual allowances made for an affordable apartment in a city such as mine, there were no outward signs that anything wrong with the place. There were never any strange noises, unusual cold spots in the center of rooms, no eerie lights. For all intents and purposes, the apartment appeared utterly mundane.

It took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to notice the door. 7 months in fact. I've never been much of a night owl, and on the rare occasions when I did have reason to be up in the wee hours my time was generally spent in someone else's bedroom.

At first, when I noticed the door, I assumed that I was hallucinating. I was, after all, in a fairly inebriated state, having just returned from a rather pleasant evening of laughter and debauchery. I already had experienced considerable difficulty in extricating my key from my apartment's lock, so I figured it was more likely that something had gone wrong with my perception rather than the unlikely scenario that a wood paneled door had suddenly materialized in my living room where previously there had only been wall.

It was old fashioned looking, with a shiny brass knob and wood the color of old leather. I shook my head for a moment and blinked, squinting at the object. The door was still there. I rubbed my eyes and closed them, counting down from 10. When I'd finished, I opened my eyes again. The door was still there. I'm not exactly sure what I thought counting down from 10 was supposed to accomplish. Beyond one mercifully brief experience with salvia at a very bad party, I'd never experienced hallucinations before, so I was sort of going off of what I'd seen in movies and TV shows.

There was something intensely unnerving about the door. It emanated a feeling of primal wrongness, I instinctually knew that I was gazing at something totally in violation of the natural order. It took a lot of willpower to do what I did next.

Having exhausted all other apparent options to my disorganized mind, I moved on to the next logical stage of inquiry; I tried to open it. The doorknob was cold to the touch, arctic even. It felt like touching the inside of a freezer. A shiver ran down my back, though I can't be sure in retrospect if it was entirely from the temperature. I tried to turn the knob. It didn't budge.

An immense sigh of relief escaped my lungs, releasing a breath that I didn't know I was holding in. Trying to think of what else I could do, I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick photo of the thing, sending it to my landlord, with a caption somewhere along the lines of "wtf is this dude, y is there a new door???"

Nodding sagely to myself, as if I had succeeded in doing anything of note, I stumbled my way into my bedroom and locked the door before falling into blissful slumber.

I awoke to the incessant screeching of my alarm clock loudly informing me that it was 7 o' clock, about 6 hours from when I had fallen asleep. I slammed my fist against "off" button and rubbed the sleep from my eyes with my other hand. In following with my usual morning routine, I then pulled out my phone and checked through my notifications.

Alongside the usual torrent of internet pseudo-acquaintances posting pictures of their brunches and whatnot was a text message from my landlord. "What are you talking about Christina", it read, "is this photoshop or something?"

At first, I didn't understand what he was referring to, but when the rusted gears of my sleepy (and hungover) brain finally started turning, I immediately jumped out of bed and scuttled over to the spot where the door had been just 6 hours prior. I did so with the intent of recording a video to further prove its existence to my skeptical landlord... but I was greeted with nothing but wall.

I texted my landlord an apology, lying and saying it was just a poorly thought out prank. Then I popped into my car and drove down to the local electronics store to purchase a camera from the grumpy underpaid college student behind the register.

Making my way over to the photography section, I searched a long while for the option that simultaneously fit my budget and the requirements for my investigation. Eventually, I found just the item.

It was a trailcam, the sort of thing hunters and geriatrics with too many acres of land and not enough hobbies use to observe wildlife. It had an SD card with enough space for several hours of blurry, black and white nightvision video, and most importantly it was cheap. I paid for my prize with the surly cashier and made my way happily back to my apartment.

I set it up securely in front of where the door had previously appeared, and, feeling like a genius, went about the rest of my day. I fell asleep that night secure in the knowledge that by morning I would have proof of what I had seen the night before.

The next morning, I rushed over excitedly to my living room, feeling like a child on Christmas morning. My giddy excitement died as I stepped into the living room, noticing the complete lack of the trailcam. Old Saint Nick appeared to have shit in my stocking.

I made my way back to the electronics store, forced once again into interacting with the student behind the register for whom my very existence seemed to be an inconvenience. Upon noticing my arrival, he sighed heavily. "Can I help you ma'am?" he said, emphasizing the last word with the same inflection one might say intestinal parasite.

"I'm looking for a cheap camera that will stream video directly to my computer." I said, trying my best to avoid mimicking the man's petulant tone.

Shrugging his shoulders and releasing another drawn out sigh, the cashier shuffled his way over to the photography section and picked out a small camera, rather similar to the last one I purchased, but approximately twice as much in terms of cost. "Do you have anything cheaper?" I asked, trying my best to sound polite.

"No." declared the cashier, with all the compassion of an exterminator crushing a cockroach beneath a steel toed boot.

I ended up paying the exorbitant price on my already abused credit card, and grumpily stalked back to the apartment to set up the new equipment, knowing I wouldn't get to see it after the night was over.

Nevertheless, I had to know how the door got there, and I needed to have irrefutable evidence.

The process to set up the new camera was a bit more involved than the last. There was all manner of fiddling about with connecting the device to my WiFi network and installing some new software to my computer, but by the time it was over it successfully uploaded footage directly to my hard drive where I could watch it at my leisure.

I went to bed that night wondering what I would do with the footage after I acquired it. After all, I couldn't really go to the police with it, could I? Excuse me officer, I imagined myself saying, but a mysterious door appears in my apartment at night, and I was wondering if you could send someone around to take a look? I'd end up institutionalized. Similarly, it's not like I could go to the newspapers either. I live in a big city, and the reporters have more important fish to fry than transient doors.

At some point while I pondered my options, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I was awakened by the banshee cries of my alarm clock, angrily informing me that it was once again 7 o' clock.

I jumped out of bed, excitedly moving over to my computer to check the footage, finding that there was about 5 hours of video. I had turned on the camera at around 10 o' clock PM, so that meant whatever happened to the camera occurred at about 3 AM.

I set the video to fast forward and watched it carefully. The first 2 hours or so showed nothing, just the regular blank wall. At exactly 12 o' clock, however, static engulfed the screen, and suddenly the old wooden door simply appeared, as if it had always been there. I rewound the footage and played it at normal speed, trying to discern anything that would show how the door suddenly manifested in the wall of my apartment, but the static was far too heavy to tell. The video simply got incredibly distorted for around 10 seconds, and suddenly the static dissipated and there was the door.

Even on video, just looking at it gave me the chills. That sense of complete and utter wrongness came through even from the screen. I shivered slightly and set the video on fast forward yet again. There was no change in the door for nearly 3 hours, but as the video crept closer and closer to the end, I switched it back to normal speed with about a minute to spare.

As I watched, the door began to slowly open. There was no microphone built into the camera, but I could imagine the ancient hinges creaking. I could feel my palms begin to sweat as I stared, transfixed. I glanced at the time remaining on the video, it was only around 30 seconds.

As the video progressed onwards, the door eventually swung fully open, revealing a black, yawning void beyond it. Static began to gather at the corners of the screen, increasing in intensity as I vaguely discerned something moving in the darkness. The quality was rapidly degrading, and I couldn't tell any specifics, but it moved in an almost spider-like manner, skittery and deeply unnerving. It seemed just about to come into view when the footage fully dissolved into static and the video ended abruptly.

I leaned back in my chair, contemplating my next move. While the video had certainly convinced me that I wasn't just going crazy, I knew that it wouldn't exactly convince the average person. I could easily have added in the static with editing, and the vague movement behind the door could just be computer generated effects or some sort of puppet. After a few minutes of pondering, I came up with an idea.

---

"I'm sorry, what?" exclaimed Lilith, who was trying hard not to choke on her iced coffee.

"A door. It appears in my apartment at exactly midnight. I have it on video", I replied, sliding my phone across the table of the coffee shop.

I first met Lilith in college, where we shared a course on the history of Gothic literature. She was a perfect picture of the stereotypical goth, with pierced septum, dyed black hair, pentacle earrings, and a wardrobe whose diversity of color could charitably be compared to that of a raven. We hadn't spoken in a long time, but I figured if there was anyone I should contact about this sort of thing, it would be her.

I'd condensed the 5 hours of footage down to a few minutes with the help of a free online video editor, and watched in slight amusement as Lilith's brow furrowed, her eyes glued to the screen. After the video ended, she seemed utterly amazed.

"Any thoughts?" I asked, pulling back my phone.

"This is some sort of joke, right? You're screwing with me?" she asked, utterly bewildered by what I had just shown her.

"No joke. No screwing around. I figured you'd be the one to ask about this, because of the whole, you know..." I said, gesturing at the leviathan cross emblazoned on her black t-shirt.

Lilith rolled her eyes at me and fidgeted nervously with one of her bracelets. "I'm not sure Christina, this seems a little bit outside of my pay grade. I don't really know what you expect me to do."

"I just need a witness of some kind. What I've got here isn't really enough to prove anything on its own, but if someone else sees it that might lend me a bit of credibility. If some random chick goes to the news complaining about a mysterious door appearing in her living room at midnight that's nothing, but if I get a witness then they might have to listen to me. Plus, I figured maybe you could, I don't know, set up some form of protective circle or sigil or something." As soon as the last words left my lips, I felt like a moron, but Lilith actually seemed to perk up a little bit.

"I mean, I guess that makes sense. How about tonight? I can come over at about 11 o' clock so we have a little bit of time to get ready", she said, a tinge of excitement in her voice.

"Sound's like a plan then, I'll text you my address. I really appreciate you doing this for me." We got up from the booth, exchanged hugs, and went our separate ways. I was skeptical about how much good Lilith's "magickal" expertise would do with regard to the unearthly door, but I had mainly mentioned it to get her interested.

I wish I hadn't.

---

About 12 hours later, I heard a knock at the door (my front door, in this case, not the impossible one). I peeked through the peephole, saw it was Lilith, and I ushered her inside. She had brought with her a black leather bag, bulging with various books, candles, jars, and other occult accoutrements.

"That's a lot of stuff", I commented, gesturing towards the bag, "are you sure you'll need all of it?"

She shrugged. "I figured it's better to be safe than sorry. I'd rather be overprepared than come up short."

"Seems reasonable."

I showed her the spot of the blank wall where the door appears and she began setting up candles and incense, drawing strange signs with chalk, and pouring salt in a semi-circle in front of where the door would be. As she worked, she occasionally read out loud from some cheap paperbacks with titles like "The Witch's Bible" and "The Unquiet Dead: A Field Guide to the Afterlife".

To be entirely honest it was incredibly underwhelming. I didn't feel any "mystical energies" or unseen vistas of space and time yawning before me. There was just a goth screwing around with some candles while reciting mangled Latin out of books she got for 4.99 apiece at a charity shop.

Nevertheless, I let Lilith get on with her business and sat back drinking some cheap beer. After about 45 minutes she seemed satisfied. The floor and walls were covered with crude sigils done in white chalk, and the whole room smelt of incense and scented candles. I checked my watch, seeing it was 11:48.

I offered Lilith a drink but she declined, instead just taking a seat and fidgeting a bit with her jewelry. We talked for a while about what the door could be, where it came from, that sort of thing. Lilith seemed convinced it was must be the restless spirit of a former tenant, but I was a bit skeptical. While at this point I could no longer honestly say I didn't believe in the supernatural, this didn't necessarily strike me as some sort of haunting.

"I don't think it's a ghost", I said, taking a sip from my near empty can, "it strikes me as something further beyond our realm of experience than that. Something, I don't know, alien somehow. I mean it changes reality itself doesn't it? It transmutes a wall to a door, and let me tell you that door was real wood and the knob was real metal. Aren't ghosts supposed to be intangible or something?"

Lilith seemed like she was about to say something before she paused, a weird look crossing her face. "Christina, what time is it?" she whispered.

I checked my watch, the digital face reading out 12:07. I turned to see the door. It had been there for 7 minutes and we hadn't even noticed its arrival. Something about us not having realized it was there bothered me far more than its materialization. Was it possible that I'd passed by it in the apartment before and just never noticed it? I'd previously assumed that I'd simply always been asleep or out of the apartment when it materialized, but now I wasn't so sure.

Lilith had turned to look at it too, after a moment saying "It's like it's always been there."

The next 3 hours passed slowly, painfully. We snapped plenty of pictures of the door at every conceivable angle on our respective phones, videos too, and decided that after it disappeared again we should take footage of the bare wall for contrast. Lilith and I chatted a bit, but it was hard to continue conversations for long. Now that we had noticed it, we could feel the wrongness emanating out from the door, as if we were being watched by something just out of sight.

I don't know if there is such a thing as true evil, some sort of absolute moral right and wrong on a spiritual level. But being near that door, I felt like I was bearing witness to an atrocity against reality itself. We spent the last 2 hours of observation in nearly complete silence. It seemed like the longer we were cognizant of the door, the worse the feeling of discomfort got. If you've ever been on a roller coaster, you'll be familiar with the feeling of going up the track towards a long drop, the tension in your very blood as you brace yourself for the fall to come. As we sat there, I felt something similar.

I almost wanted to call the whole thing off, just have Lilith and I go to a 24 hour fast food place or something and call it a night. But I had to know.

Unlike with the door's appearance, we noticed when it started to open. We sat there, paralyzed with fear and excitement as it slowly started to creak open, the worn hinges squealing just as I thought they would. The room grew significantly colder, until we were both shivering intensely. Behind the door was void, absolutely void. It was black as the depths of the ocean and emanated pure dread. The smell of incense and scented candles seemed to dissipate, replaced with a vague stench like rotting seaweed.

Finally, the entrance was swung fully open, and we sat there, staring blankly into it. We didn't even try to pull out our phones to record what we saw. The thought to do so didn't cross my mind until well after.

I could see something start to move in the darkness beyond, some sort of motion, spidery, skittering. It was coming towards us. I caught a vague glimpse of a long, thin limb reaching out from the door, coming towards us, grasping blindly from out of the dark, and then-

I felt the sun shining on my face, my entire body sore.

I opened my eyes to find myself lying on the ground, outside. There were trees overhead, but the foliage wasn't dense enough to block out the light which had awoken me. All things being equal, I would have preferred my alarm clock.

I stood up, painfully, taking stock of my surroundings. I was in a park, one which I had been to before, located a couple miles from my apartment. I looked for my phone, but couldn't find it. I began to stumble my way back home, trying my best to ignore my aching muscles. I called out for Lilith a couple times, but was met only with silence. She was gone.

As I limped my way along, a passing jogger called out "Nice tattoo". Confused, I looked down at my arm.

Burned into my flesh in white letters, as if through frostbite, were the words "BRING MORE".

#horror #horror fiction #horror story

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thotsforvillainrights · 2 years ago

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(Nope, not a request. This baby has been sitting in the drafts for a week. It’s 3 a.m. and the perfect time to post it before I go to sleep!)

~Getting Gum Stuck in Skeptic’s Hair~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-He loved you it’s true, but sometimes he was so far annoyed with you that he wanted to pack you up and mail you away. Chitose always joked with him when he complained. “That’s love for you haha!” He brushed it off but still made note to communicate with you whenever you did something that ended up annoying him. Here lately he was about to sit you down for something you’d been doing too much of. “You called?” You smiled at him as you entered the living room where was was lounging on the couch, a rare sight indeed considering he was usually hunched over and typing on a keyboard. “Yeah, I’ve got something bothering me lately and I figured now would be a good time to bring it up.” He paused his show and sat up to stare at you. You could tell he was serious about it since his bangs were pinned out of his face and you could see his eyes. “Uh...y-yeah?” He sighed and dug into his pocket to hold up a familiar wrapper. Immediately you knew what this was about. “Stop eating in the bed. We have anywhere else in the house where you can eat so at least stop eating in the bed. I cannot wake up with wrappers stuck to my back or crumbs in my hair any longer. Got it?” He stared at you and waited for you to agree. You sighed and nodded. “Got it.”

-It was a little frustrating for you but nothing you couldn’t do right? I mean, you enjoyed eating in the bed and storing snacks under the pillow for easy access rather than having to trek all the way to the kitchen in the middle of the night. It’s not like you two didn’t eat in the bed together before but you decided to to bring that up earlier so you could avoid debating with him. During bed you’d decided to quietly go out with a bang and eat one last thing in bed...just a few pieces of your favorite bubblegum. It was easy to get rid of once finished. You just wrapped the chewed pieces back up in their wrappers and hid them under the pillow. You were going to throw them away the very next morning when you awoke to a startled shout from your bathroom. You quickly got out of bed and felt your blood run cold when you noticed his reflection in the mirror. Apparently you hadn’t wrapped that chewed gum up very well because it was all over his hair.

-He slowly turned to stare at you, a hint of pure bloodlust radiating off of him. You’d likely never made him more mad in your entire time of being together. No amount of scraping and washing could get the gum out. There was only one solution and neither of you wanted to go through with it...

-The next morning he returned to work at Feel Good Inc but the reactions surrounding him were less than desirable. Finally one brave soul was bold enough to bring up the elephant in the room. “Chikazoku sir? Did you get a haircut???” Everyone stared at him in fear, watching the way Skeptic’s eyes burned holes into the man in front of him. There was no response and Tomoyasu clocked out early that day. Things weren’t any better at the Liberation meeting he had with the others. Re Destro was silent, confused really but certainly hiding behind that smile of his. Trumpet and Chitose were trying to hold back laughter. Luckily it was Geten treating this like a normal everyday situation (but secretly he wondered what the hell was going on). Now Tomoyasu had to walk around for weeks with a poorly snipped bob cut and YOU had to deal with the silent treatment from a grown man.

-Now not only were you not allowed to eat in the bed, but gum was no longer allowed in your house ever again.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #Headcanon #tomoyasu chikazoku #skeptic bnha #skeptic x reader

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favefandomimagines · 4 years ago

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I Bought A Ring (e.b.)

Summary: Abby’s back and Buck doesn’t know how to handle the news. And neither do you.

AN: i’m still PISSED that abby came back even if only for an episode, my poor buck was so hurt ): this was something i had deep in my drafts and now that buck is blowing up it seemed like a good time to post it!

there is a buck fic similar to this and i just wanna say that i did not copy or steal the idea. i’ve had this in my drafts for months since season 3 ended so no one stole anyone’s idea! if you wanna check out their fic their username is @lotsoflovefromlea and the fic is titled ‘Second Best’ it’s really really good

You didn’t think you’d have to face the day when Buck’s past came back to haunt him. You were hoping it would stay in the past and you would be his future. But life has a funny way of putting us to the test.

After the train crash, and Buck saw Abby again, he had been acting distant. Distant enough for you to notice that something was wrong. It wasn’t hard to notice, especially when the two of you live together.

He would rarely talk when you had the same shift at the 118, there was no conversation during dinner and he’d come to bed long after you had already fallen asleep.

It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even remember the last time he kissed you or touched you. And you had enough of the maltreatment.

You exited the shower and saw him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. You walked down the stairs and stood across from him, the tension between the two of you painfully obvious.

“What’s been going on with you?” You asked, breaking the ice. “What do you mean?” He asked, not meeting your gaze. “Seriously? Buck, you’ve been acting like I killed your dog for three weeks since the train crash. What the hell is going on?” You explained.

Buck sighed before looking up at you. He knew he couldn’t keep secrets from you. Including ones that could possibly change your relationship.

“Abby reached out to me. She wanted to meet up to talk.” He said. Buck could tell by the way your right eyebrow was raised and your eyes narrowed that you were not happy. “Really? And you went?” You asked. “Yeah.” Buck answered quietly.

You laughed bitterly before walking around the counter back towards the stairs. “God, you just can’t seem to let her go, can you?” You started. “It’s been, what? Two years? Two years since she left you for her ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ experience and got engaged? And who was the one who never left your side? Me. It was me, Evan and even now, you can’t seem to realize how terrible she was to you. Face it, you were her midlife crisis and you fell in love with her and never fell back out. All while making me fall in love with you.” You finished.

Sure you were a tad bit cruel, but it was what he needed to hear. No one wanting to be the one who had to pop his perfect bubble when it came to Abby.

“I stayed with you when you were suing the department for christ sake! And I can’t do it anymore, Evan.” You added. There it was again. His dreaded first name. The name you never used unless you were beyond angry with him. And he hated hearing it come from your lips. “Y/N, what do you mean?” He asked.

Fear was coursing through his body as he waited for you to finally leave him. After everything he put you through, Abby was the last straw.

“I mean, maybe we should take a break. Until you figure out what it is you really want.” You answered. It wasn’t something you wanted nor did you think it would ever happen. “No. No, no, Y/N, don’t do this.” He begged, walking towards you. “I have too. Since she came back, this relationship has been one sided and I don’t deserve that.” You said.

“Please, Y/N, I love you.” Buck told you. “Do you? Because you have a funny way of showing it.” You replied. You swiftly grabbed your keys and your purse and made a path towards the exit. “So this is it? You’re breaking up with me?” Buck asked, causing you to stop.

“I don’t want to. But you seem to have unresolved feelings for Abby and you can’t claim to love one person wholeheartedly when you clearly don’t. Figure it out, Buck. But remember who was here when no one else was.” You answered before leaving the house.

You didn’t know where else to go after you left. So you decided to go to Bobby and Athena’s. Bobby was like a father to you when you joined the 118 and you trusted him more than you trusted most people.

After trying to straighten yourself up and wipe the tears from your face, you got out of the car and headed to the front door. You knocked a couple of times and waited for the door to open.

When it did, Athena’s face softened when she saw you and instantly knew something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, ushering you inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” You answered.

Bobby, wondering who was at the door, turned the corner and saw you standing in the entryway. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Buck and I got into a fight. He went to meet up with Abby and he didn’t tell meand I just, I just don’t understand why he won’t let her go. Am I not enough?” You explained.

Athena shushed you and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. She knew Buck was stubborn but not so much that you felt you had to leave. Bobby was furious. He hated seeing you so upset and he was frustrated with the young man for making you think you weren’t enough for him.

After a few minutes, Athena made up the guest bedroom for you and said you could stay as long as you needed. But you hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long.

Bobby arrived at the station in search for Buck and found him sulking while Hen and Chimney were grilling him about his mood. “What’s wrong with you today?” Chimney asked. “Him and Y/N got in a fight last night and she walked out on him.” Bobby answered for him.

Buck looked up at his captain with wide eyes, wondering how he knew about the prior events. “She stayed at mine and Athena’s last night.” He added. Buck let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he was worried sick about you. You didn’t answer a single one of his calls or texts and he didn’t know where you went off to.

“Why did she walk out on you?” Hen asked. “Because I may have went to meet up with Abby the other day. And apparently I had been acting distant towards Y/N and she confronted me.” Buck explained. “Seriously? You still have feelings for Abby?” Hen asked. “No, Hen-” Buck tried to explain but was interrupted by his coworkers.

“Y/N is the perfect girl for you and you’re throwing her away for someone who left you?” She continued. “Hen,” Buck started. “You’re stupid but not this stupid.” She said. “Hen! I don’t have feelings for Abby anymore. I wanted to give her a chance to explain why she left and to thank her. Because if she wouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.” Buck interrupted.

“And I,” He started before he stopped himself, not sure if he wanted to tell everyone his secret. “You what?” Eddie asked. Buck looked up at his friends before sighing. “I bought a ring.” He answered. “Wait, what?” Chimney asked. “I bought a ring. I was going to propose but then I got all in my head after Abby showed up. I thought Y/N would say no and she’d leave me just like Abby did.” Buck explained.

The rest of the 118 crew was silent as they looked down at Buck. Hen sat down across from him before speaking. “That girl is head over heels in love with you, Buck. She has been since the first time she met you and the last thing she would do is leave you like Abby did. Though, because of Abby, she felt she had no choice.” She said.

“I need to get her back. I didn’t even know what to do this morning without her.” Buck said. “When does she come in for her shift?” He asked Bobby. “She was supposed to be here by now. She left before me.” The man answered.

Before anyone could form a theory about your whereabouts, the bell went off signaling they had a call.

They soon arrived to the scene of a car accident, one car completely flipped upside down.

The 118 stopped short, however, when they noticed who’s car was upside down. It was yours that was hit by a guy texting and driving and ran a red light.

“Y/N?” Buck called, running to the driver side door. “Buck, you’re too close to this.” Bobby stopped him. “We’re all too close to this, Bobby.” Buck rebutted. Bobby looked at Athena and gestured for her to keep Buck away from the scene. “Keep him away from her.” He instructed his. wife.

Eddie began trying to get the door off and Hen and Chimney noticed you were still conscious, struggling to get out and stay awake.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Hen asked. “Yeah. I-I can hear you.” You stammered. “I have a piece of shrapnel between the third and fourth intercostal space. Mild to severe concussion and around three broken ribs, and a possible pulmonary contusion.” You told them.

Both EMTs were surprised that you could still diagnose and recognize your symptoms while having a concussion and actively bleeding.

Once the door was off the car, Hen and Chimney set down the backboard and Eddie began cutting your seatbelt.

“Where’s Buck?” You asked him. “Bobby won’t let him help. He’s too close to this one.” Eddie answered. “Aren’t you all though?” You joked. Eddie laughed dryly as the seatbelt was cut free. “Can you move?” He asked.

You looked down at the piece of metal from the seat and back up at him. “You have to pull it out.” You told him. “Y/N,” Eddie started. “Eddie, you have to pull it out or I won’t be able to move. I have a concussion, I’m already bleeding and in about five minutes I’m going to pass out. I will slowly bleed out from the inside if I don’t move. Pull the damn thing out.” You snapped.

Eddie looked at you for a moment before glancing over at Buck, arguing with Athena. As Eddie pulled the piece of metal out of your side, Buck broke free of Athena’s grasp and fell to his friend’s side.

“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically. “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds so I’m sorry, Buck. For what happened last night.” You spoke, your breathing becoming shallower. “Buck we gotta move her.” Eddie told him.

Your eyes fell closed slowly and the heart rate monitor attached to you started beeping rapidly. “We gotta get her out now.” Hen instructed. Bobby pulled Buck back as he watched in horror while his friends began giving you CPR once they pulled you from the car.

Your heart beat thankfully went back to normal and Chimney and Hen loaded you into the back of the ambulance.

Buck took the liberty of joining you considering he was your emergency contact, having no other family in LA.

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Buck, Chimney and Hen were forced to stay at the ER bay, not being allowed to go with you.

Buck watched as the doctors took you away and this quickly became his worst nightmare. What if you didn’t make it? What if the last conversation you had was a fight?

Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder as they all watched you disappear down the hallway.

It had been hours. Hours of the 118 sitting in the waiting room for you to come out of surgery. Buck was a nervous wreck and no amount of consoling from Maddie or Eddie made it any better. He knew she should have told you about meeting with Abby but he was afraid of ruining everything. But not telling you made it ten times worse.

“Evan Buckley?” A doctor called, alerting the entire crew. “Th-That’s me. I’m Evan Buckley.” Buck replied. “Y/N is going to be okay. We repaired the damage to her lung as well as the other internal damage she received from the car crash. She still had a major concussion and she’ll be out of commission for a while, but she got incredibly lucky.” The doctor explained.

Buck let out a very visible sigh of relief, as did everyone else. “Can I see her?” Buck asked. “She’s in the ICU so only a couple of people at a time.” The doctor said. “You go, Buck. We’ll see her when she’s moved to a normal room.” Bobby told him.

He nodded his head and followed the doctor to your room. He saw you lying in the hospital bed, multiple IVs in your hands and arms and an oxygen tube in your nose.

Your eyes were still closed but he could tell you were awake, though hearing the doctor’s voice alerted you.

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” You turned your head slightly and saw Buck standing in the doorway. “Hi.” You said quietly, your voice still hoarse from the breathing tube in surgery.

Buck sat in the chair next to you, his eyes red and watering. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I should have told you about Abby but I met with her to get closure. And to thank her because if she wouldn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He added.

“It’s okay. I should have let you explained.” You replied. “I have something else to tell you.” Buck said. “Oh no, now what?” You joked. “I bought a ring.” He said. “Like, a ring ring?” You questioned. “Yes, a ring ring.” Buck laughed. “Where is it?” You asked.

Buck let go of your hand for a moment and fished the piece of jewelry out of his pocket.

“You have to put it on for me.” You said. Buck looked at you in disbelief as he smiled, sliding the ring on your left finger. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He said. “Of course it is. I’d be stupid to say no to you.” You told him with a smile.

Buck squeezed your hand gently as he looked at the ring on your finger. “I never want to come that close to losing you ever again.” He muttered. “You won’t. I don’t plan on leaving you for a long time.” You said. “Good. Because I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Buck said.

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you looked down at the ring. “You did a good job.” You commented. Buck laughed at your comment, causing a smile to grace your face. “Hen and Maddie helped.” He said. “I figured as much.” You replied.

The rest of the evening, or whatever time of day you thought it was, Buck stayed by your side. Even when the doctors were running their tests and looking over your condition. After almost losing you, there was no way you were going to get rid of Buck even for a moment.

#imagine #imagines #911 imagine #911 fox #911 lone star #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley oneshot #oliver stark

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starlightxsvt · 4 years ago

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Home | k.mg

pairing ➳ businessman!mingyu x female!reader

genre ➳ strangers to lovers, romance, slice of life, angst, fluff, gets spicy at the end

word count ➳ 5.6k (apx)

warnings ➳ cursing, reader is really indecisive, heavy makeout, implications of sexual activity.

synopsis ➳ an attractive stranger visits your cabin for a week with whom you quickly bond, developing some strong feelings in the process; leaving you to wonder if he's worth leaving everything behind.

A/N: henlooo~ I finally posted! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I didn't really feel like writing for a while, hence the delay. I hope y'all enjoy this piece and please don't forget to leave some feedback! It really motivates me :)

A cool gust of wind blew by as you finished typing your last column, leaving a soothing feeling behind as you exhaled loudly. It was hard to finish this piece of writing for some reason, maybe because you lacked inspiration or maybe because your life had been monotonous for a while or simply, a mix of both. Closing your laptop you stretch your hands and legs, feeling somewhat productive. Humming a tune, you looked out the window to see a Lamborghini come to a halt at the entrance.

It piqued your interest because it's not often that people riding Lamborghini come in this cabin so genuinely you're interested in the visitor. You shifted in your chair, waiting for the man to come upstairs to the reception and sure enough a tall- really tall man dressed in a neatly pressed suit appears into your view, briskly walking towards the reception where Chan stood to greet him. You could not get a good look at his face as he moved around quickly, grabbing his small carry on and heading towards his cabin after the formalities.

You watched his tall frame walking away as you got up from your seat and moved towards Chan.

"Who is he?"

"Kim Mingyu," Chan explained, resting his arms on the reception table." A millionaire, owns a lot of companies. No wonder he looked familiar."

"Oh, really? How long is he staying?"

"He has booked for five days. Said he might extend his stay."

"I see."

"Why are you so curious though?" Chan raised a brow at you, tilting his head to a side.

"Nothing." You shrugged. "He just has different vibes than the other people that come here you know?"

Chan hummed in agreement.

There was never much visitors during the rainy season which was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because that meant the cabin was less hectic and curse because sometimes you are bound to get a bit too bored. You were helping yourself with a cup of tea to somewhat feel re-energised when your newest and the only guest for the week appeared from his cabin, padding through the corridor and stepping into the common kitchen area. You were taken aback for a moment before you composed yourself and smiled at your guest, "Good morning, Mr. Kim. May I help you with anything?"

"Mingyu, please," the tall male replied while scanning the kitchen area. "You're the owner right? What's the food arrangement here?"

"Well, our guests generally cook for themselves or order takeout. When there are many guests I sometimes do the cooking."

Nodding, he hummed before putting in a capsule in the cappuccino machine. You took a seat by the window, tea in your hand as you watched the male move around like he knew this place. Dressed in his pajamas and judging by the fluffy mess that his hair was you assumed he had a good night's sleep.

"I hope you had a pleasant night, Mr- Mingyu." You said to your guest who had whipped out a pan from the cupboard and was making omelette. "Yes, surprisingly so. Normally I have trouble falling asleep but I slept like a baby last night," he casually conversed as he prepared his breakfast.

You smiled, "Well, I'm glad to know that. If you need anything let my staffs or me know."

"Sure. Oh- I didn't get your name though." Mingyu turned to meet your eyes.

"___," you smiled.

"___, okay."

"This is gonna be a rainy week," Hoshi said from behind you as he stood holding a tub of fresh soil for the plants in the backyard of the cabin. You sat on your knees, eyeing the plants which needed their soil changed.

"Yeah? Well, good thing there isn't much guests now."

"I think there should be, I mean it's so pretty here during the rain too. People need to look at it themselves." Hoshi complained.

"Well, most people don't like going out in the rain. Pass me the soil, Hoshi. Let's get this finished before the shower starts."

Hoshi handed you the tub of soil as the sky above started growling, full of thick black clouds. It was gonna start raining soon.

Hoshi spoke, "Oh, Mr.Kim, Mingyu you know, asked me about the beach by the marketplace. Apparently he wants to visit so he asked me if I was free to show him around."

"And let me guess, you aren't?" You rolled your eyes.

Soonyoung pouted, "No! Well I would have given him a tour today if the weather wasn't so bad. And my friends are coming tomorrow, so I'll be busy then."

"Wait- you're friends are coming?" You turned, glaring at the boy who smiles sheepishly, "Oh! Um- I didn't tell you? Well they're only staying for a couple of days and it's not like they're staying for free."

"Well, make sure they clean after themselves okay? If I see them trashing all over the place like last time, I'm kicking you out with them." You gave him a pointed look.

"Okay okay," Hoshi rolled his eyes, puffing his cheeks. "Just- take the CEO out on a tour tomorrow for me okay? I haven't seen my friends in a long time."

"Alright, I will...if the weather is good which probably won't be." You sighed, gently removing the old soil.

Hoshi mused about Mingyu, "Bummer for him, he came in a wrong time. It's weird, no? We don't have such guests like him."

"Yeah," you hummed, focused on handling your roses.

Hoshi's friend, Seokmin and Seungkwan appeared early in the morning next day as you watched Hoshi vibrate from happiness when he hugged them. You smiled to yourself, laughing at at the antics of your staff as you saw him guide his friends into their cabin. The day was once again filled with dark clouds and raining which occurred every other hour. You and Chan cleaned up and completed some chores as the noon fell.

"Should I cook something up for them?" You wondered as Chan finished cleaning the common space of the first cabin.

"Nah, Seokmin hyung is cooking for them. He's a pretty good cook actually."

"Really? That's nice." You said pulling up a chair to sit down. "Are you gonna join them? Hoshi has been with his friends since they came."

"Yeah, probably. You should join us too."

"No, I think I'm gonna take a nap. I feel so tired."

"Alright."

You watched as Chan climbed down the stairs and stepped towards the second cabin where everyone else was. You were about to head to your room when the CEO, Mingyu appeared in the kitchen.

"Oh, hello."

"Hi."

"I haven't seen you since morning," you said watching as Mingyu poured himself a glass of water.

"Yeah, I woke up early today, went for a jog."

"Ah, I see."

"Couldn't go far though, the weather sucks you know." He said leaning against the kitchen top.

"Yeah. But I heard that it should get better from tomorrow. I could show you around if you want to. Hoshi, my staff, is going to busy for a while so I can guide you around."

"Really? That would be cool." Mingyu smiled. There was a small stretch of silence as you both listened to the rainfall before he spoke, "Have you had lunch?"

"Uh-no."

"Would you like to join me?" He asked "This is the longest time I've been alone and it feels a bit weird," he murmured more to himself than you.

"I mean- I don't mind," you shrugged. "Though I should be the one doing it."

"It's okay. People say I am a good cook," Mingyu smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see."

It was weird how comfortable you felt watching Mingyu being clumsy and bump into things as he prepared your meal. It felt like you've been doing this forever- like you've known him forever and you thought to yourself what was suddenly wrong with you. He made small talk as he cooked and it felt easy talking with him- almost impossible to believe that he was stranger. He was friendly and easy to get along with, definitely not a cold and grumpy businessman like you imagined him to be.

Mingyu grinned as he set down the food in front of you- chicken soup, rice and cheese omelette. His eyes twinkled excitedly as he watched you take a bite, waiting for you to say something.

"What are you? A part time chef or something?" You tried not to moan as you chewed because it was that good. Mingyu laughed- a sweet, shy laugh that had his canines showing and his eyes forming crescents. "Thank you. I learned from my mom. I like cooking for myself when I get the time which is not often," he smiled- almost sadly.

"Well, you can cook for me all you want as long as you're here because this is amazing!" You grinned at him, cheeks puffed with food.

Mingyu chuckled softly as he dug in and you both started eating. It felt nice, to talk to someone new and spend time with them, someone other than Chan or Hoshi. It was a nice change- a change you probably needed for a while.

"So...What brings you here?" You asked as you finished your food, setting down the spoon and leaning back into the chair. Mingyu who was still eating, looked at you with a perplexed expression so you spoke, "I mean...we don't generally have guests like you. And it's not even a good time to visit...so I was wondering what brought you here?"

"Guests like me? What does that mean?"

"I mean...rich, okay?" You fumbled, feeling awkward. Maybe you shouldn't have asked. "Like...there are fancier places to visit, you know..."

Mingyu smiled at your words for a moment before he deadpanned, "I'm running away."

"Running away?" You gasped, almost jumping from your seat, "From who? The cops?"

"It would have been better but no, my family," he said, his voice as serious as ever.

"Oh...I see," you fell quiet. It definitely wasn't the answer you expected. You both remained silent for a while as he started out the window, lost in thoughts. "It must have been really bad if you're hiding out here." You spoke softly.

"It has always been," he mumbled. "I just couldn't take it anymore, you know? I desperately needed a break," he spoke more to himself than you. Instead of prodding further, you sat quietly, watching him and listening to his words. Seeing him now, he definitely looks troubled and you didn't exactly have the words to console him.

So you whispered, "Well, I hope it gets better."

Later that night, you find Hoshi and his friends and Chan preparing for a bonfire in the front yard of the cabin.

"Wow, you all are really having fun, no?" You said as you fisted your hands in your pockets from the chilly weather. The air was colder than other nights and everyone including you had put on some warm clothes.

"You wanna join us?" Seokmin asked as he stacked logs on top of each other.

"Nah, it's fine. You four carry on," you patted his back as you started walking back towards the cabin and saw Chan and Hoshi coming out with some boxes in their hands.

"Hey! There are marshmallows in the kitchen cabinet if you want.... nevermind," you finished as you saw beer cans and soju bottles in their hands.

"We're gonna get drunk baby!" Soonyoung yelled, grinning like a fool.

"Hyung, you look drunk already," Chan gave him a side look as they trudged towards the bonfire.

Laughing at their antics you climbed the stairs to the kitchen, preparing some hot chocolate for yourself. Holding the mug on one hand you knocked on the door to Mingyu's room, checking up on him since you haven't seen him since lunch.

The door opened revealing Mingyu in a baggy shirt and pajamas, his hair fluffy and messy.

"Hey," you chriped. "Wanted to check up on you. You wanna join the others in the bonfire?"

"Nah, I'm good. I've been watching them from the balcony." He smiled, his pointy canines showing.

"Oh, I see."

"You wanna come in? I've been getting lonely." He offered, moving away from the door to make space for you.

"Uh- I don't mind," you murmured, surprised that he asked you to come in. You tentatively stepped in and it was fair to say that you were surprised to see the room neat and pristine as most guests kept their room messy.

He ushered you into the balcony, which had a great view of your yard and the forest behind. You saw others laughing loudly as Soonyoung acted something out. Mingyu's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"You didn't join them?"

"Nah, they can get too loud sometimes," you chuckled, taking a seat on the bench. You eyed an empty mug lying by, guessing that Mingyu already had his fill of hot chocolate.

Mingyu took a seat beside you, stretching his legs and sighing as he mused, "The view is great."

You hummed your agreement. It was indeed. Not only did you have the full view of your yard and the forest, but you could see a vast horizon of the night sky, some stars twinkling through the clouds.

"It's even more beautiful during summer. You can see so many stars that it feels unreal." You told him.

"Then I will try to visit again during summer," he smiled and you were not sure if he was serious or joking. However you replied with a smile, "You're always welcome."

A silence falls among you two after that but it's not uncomfortable, as you both watched the night grow and Soonyoung and his friends got louder.

"Things got really hard for me, you know," Mingyu started speaking, his voice soft as he stared at the mesh of trees ahead. You were somewhat surprised at his words, but you didn't interrupt, opting for him to continue.

"Running a million dollar company was never easy but...it suddenly was unbearable. My parents always interfered in my work and how I run the company but I managed through all of that, really...until..." Mingyu heaved a long sigh, abruptly stopping.

"Until?" You tentatively asked, peeking at him.

"They want me to get married. With the daughter of their business partner. A marriage of convenience, really."

Oh.

You fell silent, watching him as the moonlight dimly lit the side of his face. There wasn't enough light to see his face completely, but enough to see the curve of his face, his sharp jawline and the sad, lost look in his eyes. Your heart suddenly ached for him. Silently you patted his shoulder, conjuring up some words to console him.

"That's ...awful, really. I'm sorry."

"I've never been so mad in my whole life. Can't they just leave me alone? They treat me like a puppet, like my only job is to live for them. I'm so done. " He said, his hands forming fists.

There's a beat of silence as you quietly patted his back and watched your friends get wasted by the bonfire before he chuckled softly, "I'm sorry for dumping all these on you. I just couldn't hold them in you know-"

"It's really fine, Mingyu. I don't mind. It would be nice if I could actually help you," you sighed, retracting your hand.

"Trust me, you are," he said and you caught a smile on his face.

"I suppose you don't have a significant other? Someone you could talk to freely?"

He shook his head. "That is why I came here. Needed to get my thoughts together, away from them. Not to mention I don't remember the last time I went on a vacation."

"And have you got your thoughts together?"

"I think so, yeah." He shrugged.

"What are you gonna do?" You asked tilting your head.

"Stand strong in my ground, I guess. There's no way I'm marrying their business partner, I'd rather die. And if all else fails, I'm staying here. I'm sure you have some type of job for me, right?"

You laughed at his words, "Maybe. But I'm not sure about your skills, Mr. Kim."

"Oh I'm a fast learner, Miss ___."

You both grinned at each other.

That night when you went back to your room, your thoughts were plagued by Mingyu and you could swear you saw him in your dreams too.

The next morning is brighter and shinier; the sky relatively clear other than some light clouds. After getting dressed and checking up on Hoshi and Chan who were still sleeping, you trudged through the cabin and towards Mingyu's room, before knocking on it. A fully dressed Mingyu appeared, clad in a white polo and jeans, his hair styled messily. He looked effortlessly attractive, making your heart skipp a few beats.

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

"Hi," you almost missed a breath, your face flushed with warmth.

"Oh, hey. I was about to come to you. I believe you were to show me around." Mingyu grinned, his pointy canines showing.

"And that is what I'm here for, Mr. Kim."

"Great! Let's get going. We'll take my car."

After showing Mingyu around for a couple of hours, you both ended up at the beach by the marketplace, sitting on the sand next to each other. The weather was nice; not too hot, not too cold as a light breeze flew by occasionally. Though you could see some black clouds gathering above, it wasn't to rain until evening if the forecast was correct.

"This place is so pretty," Mingyu mused, making you smile.

"I know right. The weather is great too."

You both watched the waves crash to the shore, occasionally wetting your feet as you both relaxed on the sand. There was a silence, a comfortable one as you finished eating the corndog you bought from the market earlier with some groceries. As you finished the last bite, Mingyu turned to face you and asked, "Tell me about yourself."

"What?" A squeak of surprise escaped from you.

"I shared a lot about myself last night. It's only fair I get to know about you too."

"Well..." You pondered. "There isn't much to tell. I've a pretty dull life, unlike you."

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head, "Does the cabin belong to your parents? Is it like a family business type of thing?"

"No, not really," you smiled softly. "My parents are dead. The cabin belonged to my grandfather."

"Oh- I'm sorry."

"No it's okay. They passed away in an accident when I was a kid so I don't remember them much." You spoke, watching the sea, "My grandparents raised me. Growing up I've spent a lot of time in the cabin and when my grandfather retired he handed the job to me."

"Are they alive? Your grandparents?" He asked tentatively.

You shook your head, "Grandpa passed away a couple years ago and it's been a few months since grandma did too."

"I'm sorry, you must've been lonely," Mingyu offered, his voice soft.

You shrugged, "Yeah, like I said, nothing interesting going on in my life."

Mingyu hummed noncommittally and there was a few moments of silence before he spoke again, "Was managing the cabin something you have always wanted to do?"

You were quiet for a while as you thought over the question, "No...not really. I've just kept doing the job I was handed to. I haven't really thought about what I want to do."

"Well...I think you should hire a manager in your place and maybe...I don't come to the city and make friends, see what calls for you."

"Yeah, I've thought about it. But I don't know really." You murmured.

"Well, give it some thought. I could help you find a manager. In fact, I could help promote and upgrade your cabin if you'd let me. It'll be a good investment."

You laughed softly, not taking his words too seriously. He was just a guest. He was probably just being nice.

A gust of strong wind flew by, ruining your hair as it poked into your eyes and you laughed when your eyes landed on Mingyu.

"What?"

His hair was sticking in different directions because of the wind and you shook your head with a smile as you reached to pat the hairs back into place. It happened naturally, before you could stop yourself. For a moment your eyes meet as you quickly retract your hand, face heated.

Something was definitely wrong with you.

Mingyu's gaze stayed at you for a while; you could feel his intense eyes on you and you thought maybe he didn't like you touching him. Before your thoughts ran more rampant, he spoke.

"___?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you...Do you have a home?"

"Home?" You were confused.

"Yes, home. Not like a real house but like a... person. Someone who makes you feel at ease, someone with whom you can be yourself without judgements, someone who keeps you cozy and safe and loved...like a home."

Somewhat taken aback by his words, you fell silent but their depth hit you and you found yourself thinking about it. Do you have a home?

No. No, you don't.

You shook your head, murmuring, "No."

Mingyu nodded taking his eyes off you.

"What about you?" You asked.

"Me neither."

You smiled, "Figures. Because if you had someone you wouldn't have run here but went to them."

Mingyu smiled, a sad smile gracing his lips. It was a somewhat bitter truth, he hadn't found his home no matter how much he looked for it. Maybe that's what he was doing wrong, looking desperately.

"Let's get going. It has started to rain," Your voice dragged him out of his thoughts as he felt small drops of water fall on his face. You reached your hand out to him and he took it, standing up. As you both jogged towards Mingyu's car, your hands remained connected, no one bothering to let go.

That night you had dinner with Mingyu again but this time it was you who did the cooking. After enjoying dinner over small talk, Mingyu like the gentleman he is did the dishes as you poured some wine for the two of you.

Sitting on the small table in common space by the window, you both watched the clear sky that had appeared after the shower. You sipped your wine, watching the vast expanse of stars that blinked in the dark sky.

"I think I've to go back tomorrow," Mingyu suddenly whispered, his tone so low you almost thought you misheard him. A bolt out the blue, you looked at him.

"Tomorrow?"

"Mmhmm," he fiddled with the hem of his cardigan as he stared at the table. "I've got so many calls and messages from work. My company won't run on its on, I can be gone for only so long." He sighed.

You didn't offer any words, too shocked to know that he'd be gone tomorrow. What is this attachment you've developed towards him? Why did the thought of someone, almost a stranger going back to where he came from, where he belonged hurt you so much? You didn't know what to label your feelings but realizing that you'd probably never see him again was tugging at your heartstrings.

Should you ask him for his number and stay connected with him? Is there even a point in that? You both live miles away from each other. Or should just take his advice and follow him to the city? Would that even be a good idea? Are you just reading all this wrong?

You were so invested in your thoughts that you didn't realize Mingyu was calling you until he shook your shoulder.

"You okay, ___?"

"Huh? Yeah...it's just, the news is really sudden. I didn't... expect you'd return so soon." You mumbled.

Mingyu sighed, his shoulder dropping a little bit. "Trust me, if I could I'd stay here forever. But...I can't keep running. I need to face my parents, the sooner the better."

At a loss of what to say, you just nodded. Reaching for your drink you took a big gulp, trying to calm your nerves. It's okay, you can do this. He's just another one of your guests.

You stood up, taking the empty glass in your hand, "Well, I better leave you alone now. I'm sure you've got packing to do."

You almost turned away; until a strong hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back, making you stumble towards Mingyu's body.

"Don't. Stay for a while. I don't want you to leave." His voice was soft yet deep and it immediately broke your resolve as you set the glass down and looked into his eyes.

He didn't let go of your wrist; instead only wrapped his other hand around your waist, pulling you closer, leaving just a few inches between your faces. You didn't tell him to move neither did you make any effort to get away from him- you didn't want to. It felt good, comforting as he held you and looked at you almost like you were his whole world. His eyes had so much emotion swirling in them and you were sure yours looked the same too.

"___?" His voice was breathy and it set your heart aflame.

"Y-yes?"

"Can I...kiss you?"

You inhaled sharply as his hold on you got tighter. You couldn't process a reply, overwhelmed with emotion. So you just nodded and Mingyu leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

It was soft at first, his lips just resting against yours, as if he was testing the waters. When you didn't resist but only pulled him closer, he started devouring you, his tongue prodding in your wet cavern. Moans espaced from you as you kept pulling at his hair almost grinding on him, desperate for more. He was the same, kissing you with so much passion and vigour like you were the last female standing.

You somehow managed to tug off his cardigan between the kiss and when you pulled apart for air, Mingyu panted, "Can we take this to the bedroom?"

His deep raspy voice spread liquid heat throughout your body and you had to stop yourself from pouncing on him.

"Yes please," you breathed. Mingyu stood up straight, his tall and built body intimidating you in the best ways possible, "Oh baby, you don't have to beg. I'll give you anything you want."

Once again your breath was trapped as he picked you up, his hand under your ass to support you. When he dropped you on his bed and took off his tee you realized you were in for a long night. In the back of your mind, you also realized that this would make it even harder to let him go.

Next morning you were the first one to wake up as the sun barely seeped through the blinds. If you had to guess it wasn't any more than six am. Mingyu's hand rested on your waist as he remained snuggled against your back. It was so comforting that you almost forgot your reality and went back to sleep, until you remembered what had happened last night. Before you could start overthinking and possibly had a breakdown right there, you ever so carefully removed his hand from your body and scrawled out of the bed, grabbing your shirt and quickly throwing it on. Then you tiptoped out of his room despite the ache between your legs and rushed straight towards yours.

Slamming the door shut, your sat down, head in your hands. You've to now prepare for saying goodbye. Right, you just need to act casual and not let him know that you might have developed feelings for him in the past week.

His words came back to you.

"Do you have a home?"

You didn't have one until now but the realization that you may have found it brought tears to your eyes.

You spent the next hours wallowing in your self pity, curled up in your bed too afraid to get out and face Mingyu. Soonyoung dropped by once, knocking at your door and asking if you want breakfast, which you declined. Time slowly ticked away and you watched as the clock struck eleven. You couldn't stay inside forever. You needed to bid Mingyu a goodbye- that is if he hadn't left already. But you were sure he didn't; he wouldn't just leave without any words.

Sighing, you gathered every last bit of your courage and stepped out of your room. Immediately you saw Mingyu coming out from the opposite end of the corridor, the carry-on he brought with him in his hand.

"Hey, where have you been?" He asked, his steps getting quicker to come and stand in front of you.

"Oh- um, I took and shower and then dozed off, sorry," you lied easily, not meeting his eyes.

There was a beat of silence as you both stood in front of each other and when your eyes finally met his, a blush spread across his face like wildfire. The air was heavy with unsaid words and you coughed, trying to get rid of the terrible awkwardness.

"So, you're leaving now?"

What a nice question.

Mingyu seemed to be lost in thoughts as he snapped back to reality and scratched the back of his head, "Oh yeah, right. It'll be a couple hours drive so the earlier I leave the better."

Nodding you motioned your hand towards the exit, "I'll see you out."

Mingyu seemed to have something to say but he pressed his lips in a thin line and started to climb down the stairs, you behind him. Soonyoung, who was standing at the entrance gave you a conspirational wiggle of his brows but said nothing as he watched you follow Mingyu out.

You observed as Mingyu loaded his bag in the trunk, peeking glances at you every other second. When he finished, you spoke, "Well...good luck. I hope you can overcome your problems."

"Thanks. It won't be easy and my dad will probably take away my shares of the company but...I'm done living like this."

You nodded, smiling softly as you crossed your arms against your chest. It suddenly felt cold.

You both gazed at each other, saying nothing even though you've so much to say, as if the silence would carry your unsaid words to him. You were torn- wanting to talk about last night but chickening out knowing it was probably just a fling, a one night stand for him.

"___..." Mingyu spoke but the words died on his tongue. Not trusting yourself to speak, you swallwed the ball of emotions and looked at him with a curious tilt of head.

"...I hope you find what you really want to do. And I hope you find your home too," he said, his words so soft and gentle. For some reason you had a feeling that those were not the words he wanted to say yet you forced a smile and nodded, "You too, Mingyu."

His eyes swirled with so my emotions but you didn't know what he was thinking. He looked pained, just like you but you were too afraid to speak your feelings, scared that you misread him.

When you spoke no more, Mingyu sighed and backstopped slowly, "Well... goodbye, then."

You managed to choke out the words, "Goodbye."

Your emotions overwhelmed you, tears stinging your eyes as you watched him enter his car. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like your heart was being ripped right out of your chest?

His engine roared to life and your stomach sunk. Was this really the right thing to do? Should you just let him go like this?

You made a split second decision that moment, just as his car moved forward a little.

"Mingyu!" You called after him, immediately making him stop the car. He came out, almost in a hurry, an expectant look on his face as you ran towards him. Then you made another split second decision as you wrapped your arms around his tall frame and held tight.

"I like you, Mingyu. I really like you." You mumbled in his chest.

He didn't say anything back but you felt his arms wrapping around you tightly and you stood there in each others embrace for a while. It felt like time has stopped, the warmth and safety of his arms comforting you and making you realize how you would have regretted if you had let him go.

Mingyu pulled back to take a look at your face, his hand cupping your cheeks, his warm but intense eyes on you, shining with love and adoration.

"Say something," you whispered, still unsure.

He chuckled, a light-hearted, carefree sound that made your heart swoon. "I like you too, if it wasn't obvious after last night."

Elated, you pulled his face down and kissed his lips as you felt him grin and wrap his arms around you once again.

"I want to go with you...to the city," you murmured into his chest as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You couldn't see it but you felt him smirk, "Good. Because I think I found my home."

Your heart couldn't become fuller as you grinned like a happy child.

"Me too."

A/N 2: If you enjoyed reading don't forget to like and reblog and let me know your thoughts!

#seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt fic #svt smut #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #svt fake texts

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

Text

good for me | ksj - m

“ stay on the ground until your knees hurt. no more praying baby, imma be your preacher ” - church, chase atlantic

✹ summary- You’ve forgotten something very important and your husband, Seokjin, makes sure you never forget it again.

✹ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

✹ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

✹ word count- 2.3k

✹ genre- smut, pwp, no plot, you’d have to DIG for a plot, like............. thats all there is to it. there is nothing else.

✹ warnings- hard dom!seokjin, oral sex (m receiving), spanking, degredation, dirty talk, shower sex, established relationship,

✹ a/n- this has been in the drafts for some time. i debated posting it because it literally has no substance LMAOOOOO but hey fuck it. here’s some hard dom jin because 🥵 i needed it. thank u to @chimoona for her help and for my ladies @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen always giving me the hype.

The best part of exercising is the shower afterwards.

Sure, you enjoy the benefits of cardio and weight training, but nothing ever feels as good as a hot steamy shower after you’re drenched in sweat.

It’s what you’re looking forward to as you climb out of your car and trudge your weary body to the front door.

It’s late in the evening now—Seokjin’s car is in the driveway next to yours, and you figure he must have returned home sometime while you were gone. You open the door and call out to your husband, alerting him to your return as you drop your keys onto the entryway table and kick off your gym shoes.

It’s quiet in the house, not a single reply from Seokjin, but you quickly dismiss it. He’s likely busy, or stepped outside to the backyard for a phone call.

It’s no matter. All you can think about is turning on the shower and stepping into the spray and allowing the shower to soothe away tension and wash away the slick.

Your body is sticky with sweat and the bra and legging combo you wore is an unattractive darker color from the moisture. You’re peeling off the clothes as you make your way upstairs towards your shared bedroom. The clothes land somewhere near the laundry basket—you don’t care where—and you’re completely naked by the time your feet touch the marble of the bathroom floor.

The muscles in your body relax the instant you turn the knobs of the shower to hot, as hot as you can make it. It takes a moment to warm up, and you generously use the time to roll out your sore muscles and gaze at your figure in the mirror.

There are still marks on your body from your last playtime with Jin.

Some nights, you have sex with him like a normal, married couple. Missionary, soft and gentle, plenty of emotion and sweet whispered words.

Other nights, however, you willingly allow the sadist in him to gratify the masochist in you. He takes control, demands submission, and you freely give.

Your time with your husband last night was the latter. He bent you over the bed and paddled your ass until you cried, and your pussy drooled onto the floor below you. He was relentless, powerful, and it made you putty in his hands. There was no one else on the earth you trusted more than Seokjin. You knew he would never intentionally hurt you in a way that didn’t bring you pleasure. And it made your desire for him burn even brighter.

The bathroom is steamy by the time you’ve finished checking out the delicious marks your husband left on you, and you slip into the shower with a grateful sigh. The pressure feels incredible on your muscles and you allow your eyes to close as you bask in the steam and heat.

The cascading water and intoxicating heat clouds your mind and you never notice the bathroom door open or the sound of clothing being removed. You’re so distracted that you never hear the glass door of the shower open.

And it’s too late now.

You’re instantly being pressed up against the cold tile of the bathroom, a hot and hard body behind you making you squeak in surprise.

Jin has joined you in the shower, and he’s pressed your chest to the cool wall and tangles his hands in your hair.

“Look what we have here,” he tuts. “Nice to see you showed up.”

You furrow your brow, confused on what he’s talking about. He plays with your hair as he continues to hold you against the wall, cheek turned and flat against the tile.

“Jin, wha—,” he cuts you off before you can finish.

“That’s not my name, baby doll.”

His voice is distinct from his usual.

This one radiates power. It oozes danger. And your cunt is already squeezing around nothing at the sound.

“S-sir,” you gasp. Your breathing is heavy, body overcome with desire.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. He lets a free hand travel down your wet back towards your ass, where he cups a cheek in his hand delicately.

“Now, can my good girl tell me what she did wrong today?”

His hands rub the globe gently, and you shiver. His hands feel so strong, so ready to deliver the firm swats or gentle caresses you crave the most.

You’re racking your rattled brain as hard as you can, desperate to figure out what you’ve done wrong.

“I—I can’t remember,” you murmur.

He tsks, upset at your answer.

“You better start remembering, little one.”

His hand rubs at the skin of your ass once more, before he’s lifting his hand and bringing it back down onto your cheeks with a crack. Your body jolts in reply and the stinging of your buttocks travels straight to your core. A low whimper leaves your lips—a sound of brewing desire more than despair.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl?” He asks as he rubs the reddening mark. “Tell me what you’ve done wrong and you won’t be punished.”

You puff out a breath in frustration, unable to remember what you’ve done.

Jin notices and delivers another slap to your ass, this time on the opposite cheek, and you yelp.

“I-I,” you stutter, brain spinning desperately to remember what it is you’ve missed.

“If you’ve forgotten how to use your voice, then please, let’s put that mouth to use.”

He turns your body, your back now pressed against the tile where your tits once were. Your eyes widen. He looks like a fucking god. He’s wet and dripping from the spray of the shower, and his eyes burn like coals, stoked by his desire for you. He steps back from you, allows you to drink in his image pridefully.

His cock is rock hard, straining and thick against his abdomen. He doesn’t bother to touch it, doesn’t stroke or grasp it. His eyes are drilling holes into your own with intensity and you can feel your submissive nature begging you to kneel. It’s what he wants.

He knows you—knows you better than you likely know yourself. You’re lowering on to your knees with no thought, eyes fixated on his like he likes.

“No hands,” he speaks gently. “Dirty fucking whores don’t get to use their hands.”

His powerful hands grip your damp hair, gathering a bunch and bringing your face to the tip of his cock.

“You wanna suck daddy’s cock?” He asks, tone almost teasing. He rubs the head against your plump lips, allowing them to collect the generous pre-cum at the tip.

You nod, big simpering eyes peering up at him.

“Please, daddy,” you beg. “Let me suck your cock.”

He rubs your lips a few moments more, before grasping your jaw in his hands and prying your mouth open.

“Suck.”

His hips thrust forward and suddenly your mouth fills with his length. You almost gag, almost, but you squeeze your fists tight and will it away. Jin smirks as he sees the tears build in your eyes from the pressure and continues forward until his cock fills your entire throat.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs. “Look at you take it all like a practiced whore.”

He pulls out slowly, torturously calculated and measured, before he’s slamming his length back into your throat and starting a pace.

Your mouth becomes a simple vessel for him and his pleasure. You tuck your teeth in as best as you can as he fucks your throat, cheeks hollowing as you attempt to tighten the space in your mouth, and lave your tongue over any inch of his cock you can find.

He keeps his hand on your head, grip tightening steadily on your hair.

“Shit,” he puffs a breath. “Best fucking cocksleeve.”

His head tips back as he enjoys the slurping, sloppy sounds your mouth is making. Saliva is sliding down the corners of your mouth where it gathers and drips to the wet marble floor below.

Jin delights in the way you submit to him. He feels powerful, feels like a god. He loves you, every single aspect of you in the bedroom and outside of it. And he absolutely loves it when you’re on your knees, begging like a good girl. So good for him, even when you fuck up.

He peers back down at you, pushing more hair out of your face tenderly while he fucks your willing mouth.

“Mm, this is where you belong, isn’t it? This is what this hot little mouth is meant for.”

He punctuates his sentences with quicker, rougher snaps of his hips that force his cock to the very back of your throat. Your eyes spill over with tears and your throat tightens in reaction, squeezing the head of Jin’s cock.

“Ah, fuck yes, choke on it.”

He’s absolutely enamored by the way you work harder, mouth bobbing along with his thrusts. You get off on this just as much as he does—you love to be degraded and treated like a whore in the bedroom while he treats you like the queen you are outside of it.

His queen, bowing in front of him to give him pleasure through her submission.

It’s one of the many reasons he loves you so fucking much.

He can feel his stomach tightening, core clenching as his orgasm builds. Simply watching your tears, mixed with the shower water slip down your face has his balls and heart yearning.

“You ready to swallow my cum, doll?” He asks, fully knowing the answer.

Your impossibly beautiful and big eyes widen even further and Jin stifles a groan at the sight of you, the definition of submission personified.

“Mm, I know you are.” He pumps harder into your gaping mouth, groaning at how wet and hot it is despite your aching jaw. “You love swallowing cum. It’s your favorite meal of the day.”

He’s gritting his teeth as his orgasm becomes more and more apparent and you bob your head earnestly to bring him off. You easily accommodate him without your hands, and he swells with pride at how good you are for him.

“That’s my perfect little slut,” he grits. He’s staving off the orgasm as long as he can, wants to soak in every moment of you gagging on his length.

Your hand seeks purchase on Jin’s thick thighs, holding on for balance as your head bobs quickly and your throat works overtime to accommodate his length. Another quick glance up to him is all it takes for him to fall to pieces. He can never resist the way you look at him with a mouth full of cock.

His cock pulses with each groan and you whine cutely as he fills your mouth with his seed. You slow your movements and stay put, staring at him as his cock twitches.

He gently pulls his spent cock from your lips, panting as he attempts to right himself.

“Open up,” he demands in a gentle voice.

You’re compliant—mouth opening to display Seokjin’s thick cum pooled on your tongue. It makes him grin.

“Nasty,” he winks. “Swallow, my love.”

He rests a hand on your throat, wants to feel as you swallow his seed down. It makes his cock twitch back to life, ready to go again and again. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been married to you—he’ll always find the stamina for a round two.

“Are you ready to discuss what happened today?”

Jin holds out his hand for you, which you take gratefully to stand up inside the shower.

“Yes, please.”

Jin wraps his arms around you and pulls you under the spray of the shower. He places gentle and soft kisses up and down your neck as his hands slither up and down your wet body.

“What’s the date today?” He whispers as he kisses the shell of your ear.

“It’s the eighth--,” you start, before your eyes wide. “Oh, my god.”

He smiles and pulls back to look into your eyes.

“It is the eighth, yes, and?”

“It’s our wedding anniversary.”

Your heart sinks. In the hustle and bustle of the day, it slipped from your mind of your anniversary. He had planned an entire evening to spend together, and you had forgotten all about it, abandoned the plans for a night at the gym.

“Oh, my god, Jin, I am so sorry. I totally forgot.”

Jin kisses at your face, cupping your cheeks with his hands.

“Baby, it's okay,” he assures as he kisses your shower-slick lips. “I’m not mad. The steaks are a little cold, but…”

You cling harder to your husband.

“God, I’m an idiot. I owe you!”

He chuckles in your ear as he wraps his arms tight around you. Anniversary or not, Seokjin is in love with you. And he can forgive a simple mistake. Especially when you make up for it so sweetly.

“You’re not an idiot, baby. You can show me how sorry you are tonight when you’re tied up to the bed and taking my cock, hm?”

You lick your lips, already excited for the delicious punishments Jin must have planned for you.

“I love you,” you murmur, standing on tip-toes to press another kiss to his full lips.

“Mmm, and I love you,” he replies. “And you’re going to be good for me tonight, aren’t you baby?”

Jin is turning off the shower as you nod.

He gathers a towel and steps out, drying every inch of your body before guiding you to the bedroom.

“Show me.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin #ficswithluv #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts fics

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cudan2 · 4 years ago

Text

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell.

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation.

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,�� Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna. She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?”

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today. However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor.

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.”

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagines #twilight renessaince #twilight saga #twilight reboot #twilight renaissance #doctor daddy cullen #you guys can't tell but this whole story was one large self-insert #i started writing this at the beginning of the pandemic #was in the midst of my junior year and about to apply to dental schools #basically got rejected from all 19 schools i applied to only for one to rescind their rejection and offer me a spot for next year's class #it's a school in new york too!!#what are the odds?#for anyone struggling out there or feeling like things aren't going the way you want them to - life has a way of working out eventually #twilight fanfic

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mendesbadrepuation · 4 years ago

Text

Bachata // Sebastian Stan

Once again TikTok has inspired me and inspired this little one shot/imagine/pov. Whatever you prefer to call it. I decided to post this one because I simply knew it would sit around in my drafts collecting vast amounts of mold and dust. I had lots and lots of fun with writing this. I did a little research on this dance and even found a song. Hope everyone enjoys :)

Bachata is a form of dancing. Very sexy and very intimate at times.

Background: Y/n is a famous actress learning a new dance for a scene in her movie. Her co-star Sebastian Stan is her partner learning just as much as she is. They might even learn something else along the way. Feelings perhaps?

tw- not any that I can think of. loads of fluff and vast amounts of fun!

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

“Alright you two! Get warmed up and comfortable.” Our dance instructor informs us as the music begins blasting through the studio. I make sure my heels are strapped in and I look up at Sebastian. Today he had on black basketball shorts with a graphic white tee. There was this obvious scruff across his chin and jawline. It really brought out all his features.

He was walking towards me in a funny way. His arms and legs were throwing out into this strange dance move. When your characters are professional dancers and your person playing them are not. This is what happens. I start to lightly laugh and walk towards him to the beat of the music. Our instructor has us do this everyday before we rehearse our big dance scene. It helps us get comfortable with one another and shake whatever maybe in our minds from that day away. It was a good coaching technique if you ask me.

We join our hands together at the drop of the beat. We don’t follow our steps and just dance how we like. It was fun and that’s what made this entire experience a little better. I focus on making light steps with my heels so it looks more elegant as the instructor would say. She’s also the entire choreographer for this movie so she knew a thing or two. Part of me was also focusing on not falling on my face every step I took. I was never use to wearing heels in general. Now I was being pushed to dance in them. This instructor has pushed me in ways I never knew before.

“This a new top?” Sebastian asks as he pulls me into his chest. They press together and I sway my hips to the beat. One of his hands goes to my waist guiding them towards his thigh.

“Yeah. You like it?” I look up into his eyes as our faces were inches apart. He grins at me when our eyes lock. All I had on was a simple cropped spaghetti strap tank. It was this mint green kind of color. A new color for me.

“Cute.” He replies making my face red. Sebastian made it his goal to make me blush everyday. I don’t know how it became this game for him but it did. Sometimes he didn’t even have to try. He’d simply look at me a certain way and my face was red as a tomato.

However, being in these close situations it helped for him to lighten the mood. He done that very often. Especially when I would get frustrated with a certain move I had trouble getting down. We really bonded through this film and all that has came with it. I was excited to learn this new dance and tell all my friends I can. Of course they would get to see it on screen when the film comes out.

“Okay! Get into your first positions and let’s start at the beginning and work our way into where we left off yesterday.” The instructor commands us. We step away from each other and go to our designated positions. We stand on each side of the studio across from each other. I lean my back against the mirror in the way the instructor told me to. Sebastian had one leg propped against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Our characters were designated to be in the beautiful city of Italy. Seb and I were excited to film there when the time came. Which was coming soon. Our special dance scene was coming together and before we knew it we’d be ready to fully put it together. We had two more parts to get down. The finale was suppose to make people cry apparently. That is if we do our jobs right. Which I had faith in Sebastian and I. We’ve worked so hard for this film.

The song begins to play. *Promise Romeo Santos (ft. Usher)*

I push off the wall and seductively walk towards Sebastian. Our eye contact was locked in with each other. I walk a circle around him as he stands in place. My finger drags across his back very slowly. His neck was turned toward his shoulder so he could try to catch a glimpse of me. When I reach around his front our eyes lock again. My body gets closer until he places his hands on my hips pulling me right into his body. I rest my hands on his shoulders for a moment letting him guide my hips to the music.

Our faces were inches apart as we stared into each other’s souls. It felt as if our hearts were dancing together when we did dance. That’s how romantic and sexy this dance really was. I glide my hands up to his neck to cup it gently. It makes our connection stronger in the moment. He starts to take his steps backing me up. I flow backwards with him helping me guide the way. If we didn’t trust each other then this dance would not work.

My right arm extends out as Sebastian used one arm to lift me up. My legs remained straight and I held my grip firmly on his shoulders to keep my form. His head was angled right into my lower chest. He keeps his focus on me as I turn my head to the side closing my eyes. I felt the breeze from him spinning me around. I tuck my knees in and bring my hand back down to his shoulders. He lifts me up and over his leg where I rest behind his thigh for a second.

He pulls me back over and I place my feet back down to the ground. His hands let go of my waist as I step away from him. Sebastian does his individual steps as I walk around him making sure all the attention was towards him. When he bows I began my individual steps. My last step brought me back into his arms. His large hands made their way to my hips once more. He brings me towards him as I straddled his thigh. With the beat of the music I grind my hips into his thigh. We never lost eye contact in this moment. My heart was racing at the intimacy this part held.

“One two three.” Sebastian whispers the count directly next to my ear giving me the cue to step back just enough for him to grab my hand as I extend myself out. He lets me spin out only to bring me back in. Once more I straddled his thigh and grind into his thigh. This time my hips come up a little higher and Sebastian meets me. Our bodies collide perfectly together. It was as if we were made for each other.

Without any hesitation Sebastian spins me around by my hips so now my back is pressed against his chest. His right hand trails up my side towards my stomach and directly through the valley of breasts. My heart flutters when I felt his hand around my neck pushing me into him more. On beat we practically snap our necks to look each other in the eyes again. His hand around my neck now goes up to my face where he softly rubs his thumb across my cheek bone. My hips sway against him slowly as the music begins to fade from the instructor controlling it.

“That was awesome you two! Absolutely beautiful! Let’s finish this last part and you guys will be ready to put it all together for the final scene.” She announces as she goes over in front of us. She explains the new steps thoroughly making sure we understood first. Then she takes each of us and guides us how to do what and where to look.

The final part added a sexy flair with so much passionate romance. It felt like I was watching a movie myself when she used Sebastian to show me my steps. Sebastian listened as intently as he could. I catch him staring at me at one point and all I could do was smile at him. We were sweaty and tired from the hours of practice. I could see it on both of our faces. We never had the thought of giving up though.

Once we learned the steps it was time for rehearsing it. The finale of this scene really tied the entire dance together. At the very end Sebastian and I were set to have our big kiss. The choreographer did not want us to kiss yet so the passion will let itself develop in the final dance. You could guess I was pretty excited about kissing my scene partner.

_______

The magic was in the air here in Italy. It was time for our big dance scene to come alive tonight. The directors and producers chose a nice little alley way between these bright pink buildings. Around us was all the Italy architecture you could imagine. This city truly was gorgeous in every aspect.

“Are you ready?” My stylist asks me as she is finishing up the touches on my hair and makeup. The costume director chose for me to be in a silk black two piece dress. The top piece had an A-line design with spaghetti straps. The skirt part was completely silk with two slits on either side. That way it would show off my legs for the dance. Just to add a little spice he chose red satin heels with an ankle strap. The heels I had been practicing in to be exact.

“Nervous. But ready.” I reply to her. I look at her through the mirror and see a soft smile on both of our faces.

“You’ve got this. No reason for you to be nervous.” She encourages. “Besides. This is your big moment to kiss Sebastian.” She smirks at me making my cheeks red.

“Y/n It’s time!” The director calls from the other side of the tent. My stylist fluffs my hair one more time and sends me on my way. I walk outside of the changing tent and step into the bright sunny day of Italy. The crew all looked towards me which made me blush wildly. Big smiles land on their faces and it boosts my confidence.

“Go ahead and get in your place Y/n. Sebastian is on his way!” The choreographer commands me and I nod my head making my way over to the marker. I lean against the wall and focus on my breathing. This is what we had been working for.

To keep the suspense Sebastian and I were positioned to look in opposite directions. I had no idea what he was wearing and he had no idea what I would be wearing. The thought of how handsome he could look was circling in my brain. My stomach was beginning to be filled with nervousness as we wait for the action to be called. I focus on an object off in the distance.

“Ready. ACTION!” The director calls. The music begins to play and I take in a deep breath.

My head slowly turns towards Sebastian standing opposite of me. Our eyes meet at the same time and I watch him take in a breath. He was beyond the words of handsome. They chose to put him in a white linen button down with the buttons open midway to his chest. The shirt hugged his shoulders perfectly making him look so muscular. And he was. He had on these nice gray pants that were loose enough for dancing but looked as if they fit like dress pants. My God is hair was styled perfectly back. Just enough gel to give it a little raise and the rest was just this fluffy bounce. My heart rose to my throat and it took me a moment to snap back.

Luckily I had practiced the routine so much that my feet took control at the start of the music. I elegantly walk to Sebastian as he walks to me. We didn’t remove our eyes from each other just like before. My heart was pounding when I was just close enough to see the shining blue in his eyes. The moment his hands come in contact with my hips a spark was sent through my body. His fingertips just barely graze my exposed skin on my waist. It makes my head spin from the minimal touch.

We continue through the routine just like we practiced. The passion and romance was every bit there. I felt it in my chest the way he would guide me, touch me, and hold me. When he spins me around and pressed my back up against his chest I felt my knees becoming weak. Just the fragile way he pressed his fingertips into my skin to pull me closer to him was enough to make me fall apart. I was trying to remain professional but it was hard with those blue orbs seeping into me.

Just as we approach the final part I felt butterflies erupting like a volcano in my stomach. Sebastian pulls me in as close as he can. One hand holds my waist while the other held my back. I felt him start to lean me down for the special dip. The music comes to a slow as he brings me back upright. My hand cups his cheek and our breathing was heavy. Our chests rise and fall hard against one another.

Our faces inch closer and closer. Instinctively our eyes shut just as our lips collide for the first time. My heart pounds hard against my chest that I could hear it in my ears. Sebastian deepens the kiss making me so light headed. I felt as if I was floating. He grazes his tongue across my bottom lip allowing him further access. His tongue was gentle and not too forceful. I’ve had many stage kisses but never has one made me feel this way before.

We pull back for air and stare into each other’s eyes. The director calls cut but Sebastian doesn’t loosen his grip or move an inch. I stay put still looking into his eyes.

“That was awesome you two! I’m so proud!” The choreographer announces and I take a step back letting my grip fall. My hands rest at my sides as I couldn’t contain the blush from appearing on my face.

Sebastian had this grin on his face as he continues to look at me. His eyes look from my head to my toe once more. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He compliments. If it was possible my face got 10x more red.

“Thank you Sebastian.” I barely muster up the words to reply. “You look very handsome.” This time he looks to his right and a subtle blush appears on his face.

“Thank you.” He scratches the back of his head to ease his nerves. There was an obvious connection between the two of us. However, something was holding us back from just admitting it. We wanted each other but we wanted to remain professionals.

After filming was over with for the movie I was sad to leave. Who wouldn’t be? I have grown such a connection with all of these people. Shortly after filming Sebastian reached out to me. It was just a simple text message. Should it have gave me the amount of butterflies it did?

Would I ever be able to dance with you like that again?

I couldn’t help but smile down at my phone. “What are you smiling at over there?” My best friend asks me. I shake my head trying to contain myself.

“Nothing to worry about.” I reply shortly and think of a message back.

If you’re lucky ;)

I tried to be flirty but also not give away the fact that I was crushing hard on a fellow co-star. Somehow I just knew Sebastian was going to become a big part of my life. He reads the message and I see the bubble pop up. Just as fast as it pops up it disappears. I let a soft sigh out.

“Hey look Y/n! Isn’t that Sebastian?” Another one of my friends ask. We were all having a nice time catching up at my place. I had been gone for months so they didn’t have to do much begging when it came to hanging out.

The tv was playing the in background. I scramble around finding the remote turning the volume up. There he was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Falon. My heart starts to rapidly beat in my chest at the looks of him. A black suit jacket with a floral button down underneath. His hair styled back with some gel. Once again he was just as handsome as the day I first met him.

“So Sebastian! You’ve got a new movie coming out with none other Y/n y/l/n. You know she’s one of my favorites on this show. How was it working with her?” My breath caught in my throat as my friends slightly squeal with the mention of my name.

“Oh wow. It was the best. She’s an absolute sweetheart! I can’t count the times she made my heart skip a beat.” He playfully clutches his chest. I thought I was going to faint. The crowd on the show erupts into cheers from the comment.

“Woah woah woah! Seems to me like there is some chemistry behind the scenes.” Jimmy replies egging him on. He looks down into his lap with a soft smile.

“There was definitely some moments throughout filming that had...” he pauses to think about his words. “Sparks flying I guess you could say.” Jimmy leans back in his chair in shock as the crowd gets louder.

“The producer so graciously let me have this little clip of a special scene that you all shared. Let’s watch shall we?” He gestures to another screen and the clip begins rolling. It was a small trailer that I actually hadn’t seen yet. Flashes of my face throughout filming appear. Scenes that we developed.

I see the clip of the beginning of the dance scene. The very moment we looked at each other it only showed Sebastian’s reaction. It zooms on his face and in his eyes I swear I saw a twinkle. Nice editing if you ask me. My heart jumps to my throat as the clip fades out. Sebastian is leaning back in his chair with an obvious blush on his cheeks.

“Let’s talk about that look man.” Jimmy says. Sebastian starts shaking his head. He had a big smile on his face. It’s like he was lost in his thoughts.

“That reaction was completely real. Our choreographer had us look away until the director called action. So for lack of better words. She took my breath away.” Jimmy covers his mouth in shock and the crowd was even more crazy. My jaw drops to the floor at his words.

“Wow. Seems like you two are starting a new romance Sebastian!” Jimmy says and I’m about to pass out from this entire interview.

“Yeah. If I’m lucky.” He smoothly winks at Jimmy. I knew what that meant. I just sent those words to him. My entire body was on an adrenaline rush.

“What does that mean!?” My friend asks in a high pitch. She was trying to contain her excitement but it was no use.

I look over at her with the biggest smirk on my face. My friends jump up from their seats circling around me in pure excitement. Thousands of questions were being shout out in my direction.

“Guys!” I laugh trying to get them to calm down. “When I say I’ve never had a stage kiss like his before. I mean it.” They shout in even more excitement.

“Well you’ve heard it hear live. Go check out this romantic new movie when it hits a theatre near you!” Jimmy closes the interview. Sebastian stands up waving to the crowd. The show goes to commercial and I’m still standing there speechless at his words. Was this really happening?

I bring my phone up. Without any hesitation I click on his messages again. Out of nerves I bite the inside of my cheek contemplating my next move.

“Whatever you’re about to say to him. Say it!” My friend encourages. I glance up at them and back to my phone.

Will you take my breath away if we dance again?

My cheesy reply still makes my heart pound in my chest. I wait a little over a minute and my phone buzzes against my hand.

If you’ll give me the chance I will hopefully do more than that.

I bite my lip to try and suppress the emotions circulating through my body.

Time and place?

My fingers come up to my lips as I nervously bite at one of my nails.

7 tomorrow night at my place. I’ll pick you up.

My eyes grow wide in surprise. This was really happening. I was planning a date with Sebastian Stan.

I’ll bring an inhaler just in case :)

I couldn’t ignore the wave of nausea building up in my stomach.

Good idea. I’ll bring a crash cart. Just in case your gorgeous self sends me into cardiac arrest.

My eyes roll at the flirtatious comeback. I leave the message open and explain to my friends we had to find an outfit quickly.

I was going on a date with Sebastian Stan.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

like, comment, or reblog for a part two? Thank you for reading guys!!!! :))

#sebastian stan #Sebastian #bucky #fluff #imagine #oneshot #bucky barnes #marvel #y/n x Sebastian #dance #bucky fanfic

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the-resurrection-3d · 3 years ago

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hey mootie craziest ask ever but do u have any General writing tips bc on god. i have ideas i iust Cannot sequence them or put them on Technological paper im at a loss here

Oh for sure! This post ended up being rather long, but I wanted to be thorough -- feel free to let me know if I need to re-clarify something.

Anyway!

Usually, I have to write myself into the good writing -- by which I mean I begin a session with essentially artist's warm-ups, such as scribbling out a few words about the images that are coming to me, or starting my first sentence with some throwaway introductory phrase like "Thinking about..." and then describing the thing in whatever barebones form comes out -- "and then X, and then Y," and so on. It's not pretty writing by any means, but once I have those creative energies flowing, eventually I'll start to naturally slip in more description, more emotion, even dialogue. The "real" opening of the story is usually not the opening you first write -- Anne Lamott in her book Bird by Bird, for instance, mentions that, in her drafts for her three-page food reviews, her real opening usually was on page two of the first draft. I've had essays published where I had to literally revise every single sentence that was not a quotation from somebody else. By the end of last semester, I was struggling so badly to finish some first drafts of my final papers that I legitimately could barely finish my sentences. I'd write down half a thought, hit the enter key, and start a different thought entirely.

Which leads me into my main point, which is getting a draft done by any means necessary. To be as blunt as possible: you can't edit shit you didn't write. To quote the dancer Martha Graham:

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open."

So I have first drafts littered with Wikipedia summary-tier scene descriptions, huge quotes from other writers, half-baked ideas, completely context-less dialogue, and even abrupt swaps between first, third, and second person, because nothing else matters but simply getting it done. This is not to say I never edit as I write, but you have to give yourself the leeway to write bullshit. (For longer projects, @bettsfic in her most recent newsletter discusses writing out a "gauge" to figure out the project's writing style before committing to it, saying that:

in knitting, a gauge is a square you knit before you begin a project to make sure you’ll end up with the dimensions you intended. that way, a sweater you meant for a grown-ass adult doesn’t become a baby sweater by accident. a gauge makes sure you’re using the right yarn and the right needles so you don’t have to unravel the whole thing and start over.

Thus, she says she writes and rewrites the first chapter however many times it takes to find a perspective and "voice" that works so she won't have to, say, change an entire novel from past to present tense-- I dunno how long your ideas would be, but this could be helpful, too.)

Since you mentioned sequencing, I'll admit I also struggle with that a lot, so I find writing out of order pretty necessary. Once you actually have more story material out in front of you, though, thematic threads become more apparent and sequences can start to suggest themselves. Tying themes to specific reoccurring actions and symbols can also suggest organization, both on the more global story level and the more microscopic sentence-by-sentence level. The 5+1 fanfic form is a great example of this.

John McPhee goes way more in-depth with this thematic organization idea here, though he's talking specifically about narrative nonfiction. Peter Elbow also discusses in "Collage: Your Cheating Art" that, if you have a fragmentary draft of an essay, you can always essentially use it to reverse-engineer a more "professional" outline. Again, not fiction strictly, but I use the same principle a lot (alongside Kurt Vonnegut's suggestion to start my short stories as close to the ending as I possibly can, lollll).

If you have a general sense of what plot/genre you'd like to write, you can also try what I've seen Brandon Sanderson call scaffolding, wherein you look at the basic plot beats and structure of a novel in your genre and essentially use it as the traced deviantART anime base on which to design your new OC. You don't have to be completely beholden to that plot structure, of course, but this can be a great way to cheat-start making an outline or first draft.

I tend go back and forth between collage and scaffolding since I'm a mess, lol. After the draft is done (or even just 80-90% done, because sometimes I know I'm not finished, but I won't know exactly what to finish until I'm into the revision process), I find it particularly helpful to print out my drafts and physically cut them up and rearrange them into lines and piles, so I can test the flow of certain sequences more easily than on a screen.

I was flipping through my copy of Bird by Bird while I was writing this, and I think I'll end this (very ramblingly) post with a small but encouraging quote from it:

I hope that helps! It's 2:47 am right now, lol, so I apologize if this is at all messy or a little scattered.

#long post #2d asks

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imagine-darksiders · 4 years ago

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Just like. Head canons. For our lovely Dad Guys. Whoever you want. Whatever you want. I don’t care. Just. The Fluff Beast. 😫 Getting too strong...! Help! (I’m sorry 😂 Seriously, just do whatever you want. It’ll be beautiful and I’ll love it regardless)

Well, I’ve had this little Eidad fic on the back burner for a while now, sitting in my drafts and not doing a while lot. This seems like a good time to post it <3 <3 <3

It’s a sick fic. Nothing too drastic, just an old maker getting worried about his human friend.

---

Eideard has always been an especially unflappable maker, a trait that tends to come with the territory of being the village elder.

He never gets flustered, and he always maintains the poise and composure expected of him.

Unless, of course, one of his fellow makers is under threat. Only then, by his own admission, does decorum fly out of the proverbial window and little else but worry takes over him, mind, body and soul.

Recently, he's come to discover that the same rule applies to a very specific, little human.

----

“I'm cold.”

That ought to have been their first clue.

You're sitting in the maker's forge, seemingly content to remain still and quiet beside the roaring fire whilst Alya and her brother, Valus, are hard at work at their anvil.

“Cold?” the former twin laughs incredulously, glancing up from the sword she's forging to turn and fix you with a raised brow, “You're sittin' close enough to that fire!”

Her brother though, always the more perceptive of the siblings, ambles around her and makes his way towards you, tugging at the green cowl that sits around his neck. You may be vastly smaller than him, but even behind that visor, he can see the shivers you're trying to suppress. Blinking, you watch him as he bends onto one knee in front of you and holds his treasured garment out, uttering a low, almost undetectable whine.

“I'm okay, big guy,” you murmur, sounding far from it, “Think I've just got a bit of a chill.”

At that, Valus doesn't wait for you to reach up and take the cowl from his grasp and instead, with a huff, he leans forward to drape it around your shoulders, his thick fingers tucking it up underneath you as carefully as he can. Once he's finished, he sits back on his haunches to inspect you, satisfied when you snuggle further into the fabric and give him a shy smile.

“Thanks.”

Pacified, the burly maker returns your smile with a nod and pushes himself onto his feet, turning back to his sister and the anvil.

With their attention elsewhere, you allow your smile to fade, burying your face into Valus's scarf.

You're loathe to tell them the whole truth, that accompanying your chills is a raw throat that feels as though it's been rubbed tender by sandpaper, and an ache in your limbs that only grows worse and worse by the hour.

There's no denying it.

You've come down with something.

At the very least, the makers don't know a lot about human biology, so you're relatively hopeful that you'll be able to pass this off as a mundane occurrence – definitely not anything they should be worrying about.

There is an unspoken rule amongst the giants, one that came about the moment they first laid eyes on you – a small, cowering little thing whose world had been destroyed only a few days prior.

The rule, never spoken aloud, yet understood by all, is that you are a youngling – despite your insistence to the contrary – and younglings are to be protected, especially those who have yet to reach their first century of life.

It also doesn't help that you're a human, and consequently only stand about as high as the makers' knees.

But for as endeared to you as they all are, there are none who are quite so taken as Eideard.

The village Shaman, Muria, speculates that their elder has seen more younglings and friends die off over the centuries than any of them, and thusly, that's where his protective tendencies stem from.

Thane, on the other hand, attests that Eideard has always been enormously tender-hearted, long before grief softened his edges.

If he were to find out that you're sick, you can't imagine he'd take it well.

Bottom line? You'd hate to worry him.

Unfortunately for you, there are some things that can't be kept from a group of watchful makers.

It's impossible to hide glassy eyes, tremors that rattle your whole body and a sudden, explosive sneeze that causes both Alya and Valus to jump out their skin, tools clattering to the stony ground.

“Stone's blood! Bit of warnin' before you go makin' noises like that, please!” Alya exclaims, resting a hand over her heart whilst Valus hurries over to you again.

“It was just a sneeze,” you try to protest, but the forge brother isn't buying it. Without a word, which isn't unusual, he clenches his fists and heaves himself about on a heel, marching purposefully towards the forge's entrance, deaf to his sister calling after him.

“Oi, Valus? Where are you off to?”

It's hardly a surprise that she doesn't get a response.

He disappears through the doors and you share a look with his sister, who hesitantly asks, “You.. sure you're okay?”

The fake smile you plaster on your face is apparently as unconvincing as it feels, judging by the flat look you receive from Alya in response.

A few moments later, the doors swing open once again and your ears pick up two pairs of resounding footsteps thumping through the forge.

Valus appears first, lumbering up the short flight of steps onto the raised dais where he's soon followed by the second maker, a particularly concerned-looking Eideard.

As soon as the elder's pale, grey eyes lock onto you, you slump forwards in defeat, any hope of riding this illness out in privacy now dashed. Of all the makers in Tri Stone, Eideard is the most well-versed in anthropology.

Shooting Valus a glare for his betrayal, you swallow your cough and groan, “Valus, I told you, I’m okay. You didn't need to bother Eideard.”

“I for one, am very glad he did.” From underneath his bushy, furrowed brows, the old maker studies you closely until you duck your head, weighed down by the heaviness of his stare, the whole while, your throat burns with the need to cough. Then, in a blink, his eyes widen again and the fingers clutched around his golden staff turn white as he breathes, “You're sick...”

At once, Alya shoots upright from where she'd been leaning casually against the anvil. “Sick!?” she blurts, her gaze snapping between you and her elder, “Why didn't you say somethin'?!”

“Because!” you argue, hating that Eideard’s face now appears almost twice its age thanks to the worry lines permeating his forehead, “It's not a big de-” As fate would have it, the raw spot at the back of your throat finally chooses its moment, and before you can stop yourself, you're lurching forwards into a vicious cough that burns at the tenderness like acid, bringing tears to your eyes and shame onto your clammy cheeks.

You become vaguely aware of a vast hand coming to rest on your back and fingers that pat you gently until you can catch your breath. Even after you've hacked yourself silly, you push Eideard's silken, blue sleeve away and try to get to your feet, hoping that if they see you standing, they'll be less inclined to fret. But the moment you begin to move, the same hand is cupping around your trembling body and you find yourself being lifted up and nestled against a broad chest by a maker who is wholly undeterred by your feeble resistance.

“I'm not a baby, Eideard!” you complain, trying to wriggle free as the maker presses delicately on your chest, forcing you to lay across his forearm, “Put me down! I can walk just fine.”

“Easy, now. You'll only hurt yourself further if you keep that up,” he rumbles in a tone that's far too gentle for your pride to withstand.

Embarrassed, you wilt down behind his fingers when you hear Alya's stifled giggles, but the old maker doesn't pay her any mind, simply turns away from the anvil and begins to shuffle down the steps, heading for the entrance. Almost immediately, you miss the fire's warmth and Eideard feels your shivers turn violent, his heart seizing at the sound of your teeth chattering together like rapid gunfire.

“You – you're not going outside, are you?” you croak, pulling Valus's cowl up to your neck, “It's freezing!”

“The weather is perfectly mild. You, on the other hand, are burning hotter than forge-fire.”

You open your mouth to protest but find yourself cut off when he continues, “I’ll not have this sickness turning into something worse. We may belong to separate species, but I wasn't born yesterday. A little fresh air will do you some good.”

“Ugh. You sound like my mum.”

His reply comes in the form of an affectionate, rumbling chuckle that you can feel travelling up through his palm and into your bones. Letting out a final huff, you flop backwards and turn limp in his hand.

It isn’t as though you can fight your way out of the Old One's grip, after all. For such an ancient maker, Eideard is powerful, and his age does little to detract from that strength. The meagre resistance you put up is also proven ineffective by the silken softness of the fur trim on his sleeves that you run between your fingers.

Perhaps if you'd been looking at Eideard's expression instead of the doors as he pushes them open, you'd take notice of the disquiet lingering at the edge of his eyes.

He plans on taking you to see Muria in the hopes that she might have a remedy that can alleviate the fever spreading through your delicate body, and, failing that, he will sit with you in the peace of the night air and keep you still and safe until your tremors cease and his old heart stops trying to beat its way out of his ribcage.

You're more than welcome to resent him for this, he muses quietly, but after seeing so many of his people lost to corruption, it isn't such an easy feat to quell the pervasive anxiety that writhes like an impatient, snarling beast in his stomach, and he would much rather endure your resentment if it means keeping you out of harm’s way.

The village elder is supposed to protect his own, and glancing down at you and seeing that you've buried your face into the fabric of his robe to escape the cold, Eideard realises with a sudden surge of paternal drive, that you fall under the scope of those he considers 'his.'

The old maker clutches you possessively against his chest and hurries as well as his tired legs can carry him up towards the Shaman's gazebo, knowing that his soul will never know peace until you’re well once again.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #Eideard #Eidad #super rushed #sorry #Sick fic #reader #g/t

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